


I've loved you so in Tokyo

by Lalalaartje



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Also love Harry but Draco's my baby, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Auror Harry Potter, Childhood Trauma, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Firewhiskey (Harry Potter), Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry and Ginny break up, Harry's ignorant as ever, Hogwarts, Hurt Draco Malfoy, Hurt Harry Potter, I love fanfic Draco okay, M/M, Miscarriage, No Ginny Bashing, Patronus Charm (Harry Potter), Potioneer Draco Malfoy, Professor Harry Potter, Tokyo (City), Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22083874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalalaartje/pseuds/Lalalaartje
Summary: “I'm sorry that I left too late. I didn't dare to say goodbye. I always have and always will love you, but I have to go before it hurts us both even more. Please don’t ask me why, I don’t have all the answers either. I'm sorry. X Ginny”Finding her note was the beginning of the end for Harry, or well, at the time it had felt that way. Now, over half a year, a lot of pitying looks and even more time for introspection later, he knows their ending had begun long before Ginny's actual leaving.Yet, here he is, Christmas leave is almost over and he's soon to return to Hogwarts, but coming home to Grimmauld place has only reminded him that he doesn't have a home anymore. Not here, not at Hogwarts. Not anymore. Not really.So it's the middle of the night when he sends an owl to McGonagall, or Minerva, as she insists to be called now that Harry is considered staff, asking if he can take the rest of the school year off. His skin itches to get away, his trunk already packed and the international portkey station only an apparition point away.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Oliver Wood, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lee Jordan/George Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 37
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phdmama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdmama/gifts), [clueingforlooks_95](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clueingforlooks_95/gifts).



> I'm so sorry for abandoning this story for almost a year. What a year this has been. Apart from the pandemic, my pregnant wife broke her ankle when she fell down the stairs, we've had a new baby... it's been quite crazy.  
> But lately I've picked up my writing again, and it's proven to be as therapeutic as ever. 
> 
> I want to thank @clueingforlooks_95 for being my beta for this story, it's helped me so much to improve the story. I've loved your input about the characters and their development and appreciate your edits so much! All remaining mistakes are mine, and mine alone!
> 
> TW: mentions of unplanned/unwanted pregnancy, abortion and miscarriage. I'll warn specifically when I post the part where it comes up and you can perfectly read the story without that part, so let me know if you want to talk about it.  
> There's a bit of timeline jumping, especially in the beginning, but I hope it's not too much of a mess, and all should become more clear as we proceed through the story.  
> I'm on tumblr as Lalalaartje, twitter as karovekie and then there's facebook and email but message me first if you want that!
> 
> I just want to (creepily) gift this to phdmama because she's such an inspiration and I love all of her work so much. Thanks <3

**May 2001**

The house was unusually quiet when Harry woke up. Ginny’d been having trouble sleeping for the last couple of months, so he didn’t find it weird to wake up alone in their bed, even when her side was cold, indicating it had been hours since she’d been in it. She’d lain there, staring up at the ceiling when he’d snuck into their bedroom last night, not even bothering to pretend to be asleep when he’d crawled in, but not moving to cuddle him either. 

It’d been a long time since they'd cuddled before going to sleep, and even longer since they'd fallen asleep tangled in each other's arms. 

But even though things weren’t exactly well between them, when Harry woke up in the morning, the smell of Ginny's coffee would have made its way upstairs, and as soon as he stepped out onto the landing, he'd hear the murmur of the morning show on her favourite wireless station. He'd find her in the kitchen and they'd swap a good morning kiss. It would almost feel as if everything was okay. 

This morning, the house still smelled of the dinner Kreacher had whipped up when he got home the night before, and there was no sound to be heard. 

The kitchen was dark, Kreacher apparently not around and Ginny nowhere to be found. He glanced around, feeling a bit disoriented in the silence and noticed a note next to the kettle, a half full glass of their strongest firewhiskey leaving a ring on the upper left corner of the parchment, as if Ginny had needed the liquid courage before writing it. 

_“I'm sorry that I left too late. I didn't dare to say goodbye._

_I always have and always will love you, but I have to go before it hurts us both even more._

_Please don’t ask me why, I don’t have all the answers either._

_I'm sorry. X Ginny”_

“Bollocks!” he cursed. Without even noticing, he had picked up Ginny’s glass and while reading her note, had crushed it to pieces in his fist, the sharp glass cutting into his hand. 

He moved over, closer to the lights under the cupboards and started removing the shards one by one, pulling the edges carefully as they slipped from between his fingers. 

_“Harry, when are you going to remember you’re a wizard?”_ He chuckled despite himself. Especially when it came to things that were a pain in the ass when doing them without magic, he tended to forget he could just do them easily with a simple spell. Ginny had said those exact words so often that he could _hear_ her saying them even when she wasn’t there. Tears sprung to his eyes but he refused to cry. Not now. Quickly, he grabbed his wand from the countertop, removed the shards, vanished them and healed the cuts before he picked up the note and set it on fire.

Not a second later, he changed his mind, put out the fire and smoothed out the creases in the note with a few strokes of a shaking hand before shoving it into one of the kitchen drawers. 

Being a Monday, Harry was due back at the castle in a little under an hour, so while everything felt like it was crumbling around him, while he himself felt like crumbling down, he swallowed the lump in his throat and went on with his morning. He couldn’t dwell on Ginny’s departure when Hogwarts’ students depended on him. Two cups of strong tea and a bowl of cereal in a semi-dark kitchen in order not to alarm Kreacher or give him the idea that he was needed, and then he was on his way. 

“Good morning professor!” Harry was greeted by one of his third year Gryffindor students, smiling cheerily as she walked out onto the grounds to catch some of the early morning sun before the lessons started. 

“Morning Helen,” he replied distractedly, walking up to his room to grab his lesson plans before heading to the defence classroom. He considered himself lucky to have planned a lot of practical exercises for the upcoming week, wanting his students to revise properly before their exams. After all, he still believed that the only way to properly learn how to defend yourself is by doing it. Preferably after gaining a solid theoretical basis, he’d admit that much, but still. No textbook had ever taught him how to cast a patronus. The practical lessons would be more forgiving if he was a bit distracted throughout, as well as they would be more of a distraction themselves. 

***

At noon, Harry wrapped up the quite rowdy practice session of his sixth years, answering a couple of questions from his students before sending them down to the Great Hall for lunch and following suit himself. 

There was a buzz around the hall when he walked in, students talking and joking amongst each other now that the stress for their exams wasn’t at its peak yet, the sun blazing in the pale blue sky only adding to their cheer. 

He sighed as he sank down in his usual seat at the head table, between Hermione and Hagrid’s empty seat. Hagrid usually skipped lunch these days as he was always too busy taking care of the newborn ‘ _secret creatures_ ’ as long as the sun was up. Harry had long since given up trying to find out what these ‘ _secret creatures_ ’ were, reasoning that McGonagall at least couldn’t hold him responsible if he didn’t know of it. 

Hermione turned around from her conversation with professor Babbling, looking surprised to find him there. “Harry! You’re here!? I figured you would’ve uhm…”

“Called in sick?” Harry supplied, only barely suppressing an eye roll at her poor attempt at subtlety.

“Well. Yeah. Ron said… Well. Err.”

“She left. Yes.”

“Oh Harry…” the pity in her eyes was pretty much unbearable. Harry felt grateful that they were here, in front of all of their students and therefore unable to express more than a few words of pity.

“It’s… It’s fine, Hermione, just… can we please not talk about it?” he gritted out, loading his plate with spring rolls and fried rice.

She nodded, sadness and worry lacing her gaze as she turned back to her plate and her earlier interrupted conversation with the ancient runes-professor on her other side. 

She tried to corner him a couple more times over the week, wanting him to talk about it, but Harry had never been a talker so he avoided her as well as he could. Instead, he went out to Hogsmeade, met George and Lee for pints once (the lovely men never even mentioned Ginny) and tried flying as a means of coping. Sometimes he just needed the quiet and the fresh air he only got when he was high up, preferably chasing a snitch but even without the purpose, he felt like it calmed him down a bit.

He knew he was avoiding it. Avoiding to talk about his feelings, even avoiding feeling them. It haunted him when he was alone. Why she had left, why she had done it this way, how they had both fucked up their relationship. They’d had something great, one day, but somehow they had let it go, and now all that was left was a giant mess. He knew he had to face it, work through it, one day, but he wasn’t sure how, so he put it off and pushed it down. It was the only way he knew how to get through his days.

*******

**Two years earlier**

“See you tomorrow Harry, can’t stay for pints today. Hermione said she has a surprise for me,” Ron wiggled his eyebrows tellingly as he headed out of the locker room. Harry waved half-heartedly, not wanting to think about the kind of surprises Hermione had for Ron these days and tilted his head back under the hot spray of the shower. 

Their training had been rough and very physical today, yet Harry was not only trying to wash away the sweat, but also the thoughts that kept niggling at the back of his mind. 

It’d been a couple of months ago when he first started to doubt if auror training was really what he was supposed to do with his life. Well, it had always been what he was _supposed_ to do, of course. Everyone had always expected it from him, and he’d just followed their lead, enrolling in auror training because obviously defence was something he was at least reasonably good at.

And he was, really, it wasn’t like he was struggling, not even that the theoretical lessons were too hard or anything. Yet somehow, it didn’t feel _right._ Not anymore. He felt like an unguided missile on the way to destruction. Destruction of himself or of someone else, he wasn’t sure.

He’d tried talking about it with Ginny, of course, but their time together was sparse, with her finishing seventh year and only being allowed to Hogsmeade on the weekends. If she wasn’t buried under coursework in preparation of her NEWTS or playing Quidditch in front of countless scouts who’d caught wind of the Weasley girl who flew like she was born on a broomstick.

He’d been looking forward to spending the holidays together, hoping they’d find some time to discuss what was bothering him, but they’d spent them at The Burrow. It was always full house there, and the fact that everyone kept praising him and Ron for their choice to become Aurors didn’t help either. Especially Molly kept coddling them, insisting that their choice of profession was proof that Fred’s death hadn’t been for naught. 

All that together had resulted in Harry clamming up, like he’d done so often before. Usually, Ron and Hermione would pick up on it and get him out of his funk somehow. But this time, even they were too busy with themselves and their new adult life to notice.

***

Ginny had gone home to The Burrow for Easter, and while Harry knew he was welcome there (and had been told repeatedly by Molly in case he wasn’t sure), he’d told the Weasleys he needed some peace and quiet after a couple of rough weeks in training. 

He found himself alone at Grimmauld place, no training to distract him from his thoughts and only Kreacher around to cater to his needs. He’d learned to let the elf take care of him by now, finding out the hard way that not doing so would only make it worse as he would get offended and start messing up his household on purpose. Besides, it was a fact that Kreacher had been a great help in removing all pests from the house, as well as moving the giant portrait from the hallway to the attic, where Harry could still hear Sirius’ mother screech about filthy blood traitors sometimes.

Other than that, the house felt silent and empty. After the war, he had engaged Ron, Hermione and Ginny to help renovate it as well as hired some professional magical builders. Objectively, the house was beautiful now. It had been restored in its old glory and he could actually see the nobility in there. Still, it wasn’t home. He often told himself things would probably get better when Ginny moved in, as he wouldn’t be alone anymore in such a big house. The truth was he didn’t bother to decorate it, make himself at home, and wasn't even sure where to start. Especially when he hardly was home for anything other than sleeping.

In fact, the last time he’d felt at home…

It was as if a light bulb lit up inside his head when he thought of it. Hogwarts. He scrambled to his feet and almost ran from the kitchen where he was drinking yet another cup of tea to his makeshift office. He quickly grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment and scribbled out a note before rolling it up and tying it to Eleanor’s leg. 

He’d gotten the bright white snow owl at the magical pets shelter shortly after returning from Hogwarts and she’d proven to be a trustworthy courier as well as an easy pet. 

After sending her off, he went back to the novel he’d been reading earlier, suddenly finding it a lot easier to focus on the story. 

Even if she always dutifully delivered her letters to the right person, she wasn’t the fastest flyer, so he wasn’t expecting her back until the next evening. He was therefore pleasantly surprised when she sat waiting for him on the kitchen table as he came downstairs the next morning, a scroll of parchment tied to her leg once more. He took it off, distractedly throwing an owl treat her way while skimming over the lines.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Harry,_

_You are most welcome to have a chat about the options we might have at Hogwarts for you. Without further notice, I’ll be expecting you next Wednesday at 11am._

_Kind regards,_

_Minerva McGonagall._

From then on, things went quickly. A thorough conversation in McGonagall’s office on Wednesday, handing in his resignation with Robards on Thursday and facing his friends - and girlfriend - about it on Friday. 

Ginny was - not amused. Not as angry as Ron had been though. As Harry’s best mate, he felt left out because of Harry not telling anyone about his plans beforehand, and left behind since Harry would leave their training at the end of June.

Hermione, she seemed to understand though. She just nodded and smiled, hugging him close. 

He knew Ron would come around eventually, probably after a long talking to by Hermione, but maybe Ginny’s quick forgiveness was what worried him the most. After he explained how he had struggled to find the time and the right moment to talk to her about it, she had almost shrugged it off. As if it was only logical that he had made the decision all by himself. Of course, he had been the one who had done it and he would be the one having to live with the consequences, but it felt weird to see her so laid back about it. Where had their connection gone to? 

He was sure Hermione wouldn’t be as forgiving if Ron hadn’t told her about what was on his mind if it concerned such life altering decisions. 

He attributed her nonchalance to her preoccupation with her N.E.W.T.S. and the talent scouts who were still after her, but it kept bothering him somewhat throughout the entire job change. 

“Mister Potter, how nice of you to join us again,” Harry had to consciously stop himself from flinching at the familiar sound of Snape’s voice. Even from his portrait at McGonagall’s office he sneered at him, dead or not. 

“Professor,” he greeted stiffly, nodding almost imperceptibly at the man he’d hated so much. 

“Harry, sit down please, so I can explain what curriculum we’ve drawn up for you,” the headmistress interfered, taking a seat before raising an eyebrow at professor Snape. 

  
  


_Dear Ginny,_

_It feels weird to be back at Hogwarts, now that you’ve only just left. The castle is quiet, of course, with all students and even most of the teachers gone for the summer. At least it’s not as hot in here as it is outside, the grass on the Quidditch pitch looks as sunburnt as your skin would ;)_

_I’ve met up with McGonagall today, and unfortunately, it seems like my summer will be rather boring. Since Snape is still the current DADA professor, he’s going to tutor me, as well as Minerva herself. I’ve got to brush up on my theory on DADA, and learn about teaching skills. Luckily I was able to bite my tongue instead of remarking how Snape obviously lacked these, yet had always been allowed to teach. Minerva will be gone most of the summer though, so it will just be me and good ol’ Severus. Hooray._

_But, I should stop whining. I knew this wouldn’t be easy all the time, but I made the choice myself. And I’ve definitely got something to look forward to! After the summer, McGonagall is sending me to Tokyo. Can you believe it?! Remus told me about their defence culture once, and it seems so amazing. I can hardly wait. It’s going to be so awesome to discover something so entirely different from what I already know. And it will also be great that nobody knows me there. No more “Thank you so much, Harry” when all I want is go out for a pint. I’ll miss you, of course, but if you can squeeze in some time off, Tokyo is only a portkey away, right?_

_All in all, I’m rather happy that she’s ensuring I get a proper training before throwing me to the wolves. I would feel like I only got the job for being The Boy Who Lived._

_Oh! I’ve met Isabella! Her quarters are actually in the same hallway as mine, and I pretty much ran into her when I went to put away the books and scrolls I’d been given as reading material. She seems very nice, as you’ve mentioned she is, and I can see how her being the new Slytherin head of house did its reputation good after the war. Now it’s finally clear that you_ can _be in Slytherin while not being an intolerable blood purist. We went to lunch together and she told me a lot about her education at Ilvermorny, as well as taught me the very helpful skill of getting the moving staircase leading to our hallway to behave. It must’ve taken me three wild turns of the bloody thing to get to the proper landing the first time._

_I’m a bit sad she’s leaving next week already, but I suppose she’d be crazy to pass up a vacation at her family’s home in Italy._

_I should go now, it’s getting dark and I should probably get to bed in time for tomorrow’s study session._

_Come visit, if you can? Or at least write to me about your training, I’m sure you’re doing great!_

_Love, Harry_

  
  


To his chagrin, Ginny hadn’t been able to come visit all summer. He understood, though. She was busy getting to know her team, and she didn’t want to give them the impression she wasn’t all in. Luckily, Hermione and Ron had met up with him a few times and he’d gone out for a pint or two with George as well. 

Still, after two months of lessons with Snape and meals on his own at his desk, it was quite a relief to be able to count down to the arrival of his colleagues in the morning, and then the students in the evening. 

The familiar Hogwarts atmosphere was heartwarming, even if some things were most definitely different after the war. 

For example, before the sorting ceremony, McGonagall told everyone about the positive characteristics of each house, warning the students once more that bullying people about their sorted house was considered a serious offense and could lead to expulsion. 

The seventh years now had their own table as well, apart from the house tables, in an attempt to encourage house-transcending friendships in the class that was about to leave the school. Harry had actually liked being there last year, even if there were only about twenty eighth year students and they all gravely felt the absence of some of their peers. 

What was weirdest for Harry, was definitely his seat at the head table. Granted, only in a corner of it, to make sure no one took him for an _actual_ professor, but still. He was there, as Hagrid had extensively reminded him when he came back from his holiday in France.

He realised he would really miss Hogwarts when he was leaving in only a couple of weeks, but he was also excited to discover Tokyo. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Don’t be a stranger, yeah?” Hermione wiped her eyes as she pulled back from their hug. “Write to us, as the distance will be too long for apparating or floo calling, and let us know if you’ll be home for Christmas.”

Harry smiled and nodded, shaking his shoulders a bit in the brand new robes he’d gotten from Arthur and Molly for the occasion. “I definitely will. Say bye from me to Ginny again, and wish her good luck with the game?” He’d said goodbye to Ginny the night before since she was unable to get to the portkey station with them because of her rigorous training schedule with the Holyhead Harpies. It was weird to be leaving without saying goodbye to her in person, but Tokyo wasn’t the end of the world. And even if it was, they’d managed to be without each other over the summer as well. They’d survive. 

Molly sniffled, assuring him she would indeed pass his love to her only daughter, wiping her eyes as a voice announced that he needed to proceed to his gate.

A last round of quick hugs followed; Ron, Hermione, Molly and Arthur and then it was time to make his way through customs. 

***

Tokyo was… busy. It wasn’t like London was a quiet village in the countryside, but compared to a regular day in Tokyo, even Christmas shopping at Oxford Street seemed quiet. Harry’s trunks had been sent ahead to his hotel for his convenience, so he only had to find his own way through the city, luckily with nothing but his backpack to carry. The connecting portkey from the international portkey station had dropped him off right in front of Shibuya station, at the edge of one of the busiest crossings in the entire city, and to say it was overwhelming was a big understatement. 

Somehow he managed to find his way inside of the station and even to find the signs pointing to Keio station. As he let himself be carried by the throngs of people that were running around the station, even at 6 in the morning, he looked around in awe. Everything was extremely bright and busy, yet there was a certain order that everyone kept to, almost  subconsciously, or  so it seemed. 

After a couple of minutes, he noticed the big staircase with a big bright mural next to it, recognising it from the picture he’d been sent to help him find his way. Harry stood still in front of it and took in the beautiful painting, hardly noticing the few people who bumped into him before the stream of commuters adjusted its way around him. Another deep breath and there he went, straight through the wall underneath the painting, and into the middle of another busy street. The atmosphere was different though, as if he could feel magic crackling in the air.

He took a deep breath, feeling like his lungs had collapsed like he always felt when he went to platform 9 ¾ but immediately regretted it when the strong scent of spices invaded his airways from where he had landed next to a food stall.

Once his vicious coughing had subsided, Harry looked up and around him, fascinated by the high buildings surrounding the broad streets. Somehow, he had expected wizarding Tokyo to be more like wizarding London and less like muggle Tokyo. 

He must’ve  subconsciously have taken a step backwards, because before he knew it, he got scolded in fast Japanese by an ancient looking witch who apparently was in charge of a class of school children. There were about twenty of them, all dressed immaculately in their school uniforms that reminded him a lot about his own uniform from Hogwarts, only a bit shinier from the silk fabric  used, and  coloured a bright blue. The silence and efficiency with which the two rows of students meandered the busy sidewalk was remarkable. 

“Sorry! Sorry,” he exclaimed, stepping aside to let them pass and swinging his backpack around in order to grab the street map Master Saito had sent him. 

It took Harry a couple of tries before he managed to find the street where his hotel was at, making a few mental notes about places he wanted to discover later on. But finally, about an hour after arriving in Tokyo, he had checked in and was on the way to his room. So far the hotel seemed relatively normal, only a few signs of magic around the lobby and in the elevator and definitely nothing he wasn’t used to from his (limited) experience with hotels around London. 

Walking into the room, he took some time to appreciate the luxurious fabric around the four poster bed, a thin dark blue silk rather than the thick velvet drapes he was used to, and found his way to the large window that offered a beautiful view of the city below him. The sidewalks were filled with people meandering around each other in some organisation still unknown to him, while the streets were occupied by a notable variety of vehicles, most of which he hadn’t ever seen before. 

There were carriages pulled by magical creatures, strange looking bicycles, hovering motorcycles, rickshaws and even a canoe that transformed the asphalt into water in front of  its bow. Harry didn’t know where to look first, especially with all the lights and neon signs flickering everywhere. 

After a couple of minutes, he started noticing how tired he was, so he picked up the spell book on the table, trying to find out if the way to operate the bathroom was any different from what he was used to. 

Luckily it wasn’t, so it didn’t take any complicated spell learning before he was able to enjoy a hot shower. The water managed to relax him enough to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, muttering to himself he’d find out how to owl his letters in the morning. London would have to survive another day without news from Harry Potter, he supposed.

Due to the time difference, it was rather hard to wake up in time for Master Saito to pick him up. The only thing it made easier was stomaching the large selection of breakfast foods set up in the lounge downstairs. Even if Harry was used to English breakfast, miso soup and white rice with fried tofu and soy sauce on an empty stomach was quite a challenge.

Master Saito arrived promptly on time and they side-along apparated to his office at the Japanese ministry of Magic, where Harry felt at the same time out of place and exactly where he wanted to be. It felt strange to walk around in a place so similar to his own former workplace, yet no one here knew who he was and what he had done. It was… refreshing. If they were stopped along the way, it wasn’t about him, but the people they met wanted to talk to Master Saito - Akira, as he had introduced himself earlier- and not to the unknown western-looking man next to him. 

“Please tie back your hair,” Akira ordered him once they entered his office, handing him a hairband from a small box on his desk. Harry’s hair had grown longer over the past couple of years, but it wasn’t quite long enough for a decent ponytail or bun. “It’s going to hang in your eyes while we practice and we can’t have that,” Akira further explained while he did the same thing to his own raven hair, tying back the longer pieces at the front into a half bun. Harry followed his example and found that his usual twitch to throw his hair from his face had become completely unnecessary. That was a nice extra, since it probably made him look like an idiot when he jerked his head like that. 

Once his hair was fixed, Akira retrieved two kimonos, resembling his own familiar auror robes and handed one to Harry while he fastened his own. Only now, without his hair hanging in front of it and his colorful clothes to distract from his face, Harry noticed that Akira was in fact a lot younger than he had assumed beforehand. He couldn’t have been much older than forty, and it was almost unbelievable that he had already made such a name for himself in the magical world. 

“Maybe I should have started with this when we met, but I forgot so we’ll just do it now,” Akira smiled at him. “For the first month of your stay, we’ll be spending every morning at the practice sessions with our Heishi, the Japanese counterpart of your Aurors. In the afternoon there will be theory lessons from me or one of my colleagues, as well as time to discuss what you’ve learned in the morning. After that first month, we’ll evaluate and see if we need to change anything.” Harry nodded, deflating a bit at the idea of having to go through another round of Auror training. 

“We’ll start at 8 each morning, and I expect you to come here by yourself starting tomorrow, but for today I thought you’d appreciate a little sleep in to deal with your jet lag,” Akira grinned. “They’ll be in the middle of their practice now, so this morning I just want you to focus on how they duel and how it differs from the style you’re used to. You probably won’t know all the spells that are used, but we’ll go over that this afternoon.” At that, Harry perked up again and followed Akira through the other door leading from his office into a practice hall. 

The hall in itself looked much similar to the one he was used to in London, cushioned walls and floors, thick mats along the walls as well as ropes hanging from the ceiling. Spread across the hall, there were about twenty young wizards and witches paired up for duelling. Unlike the Aurors Harry had been training with, most of the Heishi used  non-verbal  spells for the larger part of their fighting, only speaking up when they used a more complicated spell, both for attack and defence.

Harry giggled when an  _ incendio _ meant to set the opposing witch’s hair on fire was shielded a fraction too late but bounced back anyway, lighting both a lock of the witch’s and the attacking wizard’s underwear. Both let out a shriek and quickly muttered an  _ aguamenti _ to put out the fire before resuming their training. 

By the end of the morning, Harry had scribbled about a foot of parchment full of things he’d noticed to be different about the duelling in Japan. It quickly became obvious that defence was an important part of Mahoutokoro’s curriculum. Most of the spells he’d seen or heard on the occasion that the wizards and witches used verbal spells, he recognised from effect, even if they used other incantations here and there. Yet there were a few protective spells, one that created a glass-like bubble around the wizard casting it that the offending spell just slid off of and one that made the magic cast its way explode in mid-air, that he wasn’t familiar with. He’d also noticed a couple of offensive spells that he couldn’t recall having ever seen, but it all went too fast to jot everything down. 

***

Every night when he arrived back at his hotel, Harry was completely wiped. Over the week he had started to engage in the Heishi training as well as watching it, and that combined with the theory lessons in the afternoon left both his mind and body exhausted. He hardly found the time to read the mail that had arrived at the hotel, let alone reply. There was a lengthy letter from Hermione, a short note from Ginny,, telling him once more how busy she was, and a drawing and a couple of pictures from Teddy, sent by Andromeda.

  
  


On Saturday, he had the day off so he slept in and after another Japanese breakfast which he was growing used to, went out to discover wizarding Tokyo more thoroughly than he’d done the week before upon his arrival. It turned out that most of the shops weren’t very different from the ones he knew from Diagon Alley. The only one he steered clear off was a shabby looking one selling “every magical food known in the world” according to the signboard at the door, and while it already looked dirty and unhealthy, the smell was even less appetising. 

He’d meandered through the large boulevards and in and out of shops for the larger part of the afternoon,when he got hungry and noticed a sign he’d recognise from miles away.

_ “The Leaky Cauldron Tokyo” _ The letters danced around on the signboard while the cauldron drawn next to it constantly overflowed with a liquid that kept changing colours. 

“Live entertainment” said another sign magically glued to the window and it was the last push Harry needed to get inside. He’d slept off the week’s exhaustion, and apparently his jet lag had decided to rear its head once more, making him feel like it was still early in the day. 

Behind the bar were various T-shirts advertising the name of the pub, which were apparently for sale. According to the text on the back of the menu, Tom had expanded his franchise to the Muggle example of Hard Rock Café and there was now a Leaky Cauldron in every important wizard city. 

“A butterbeer please,” Harry asked the bouncy witch manning the bar, pleased to find a familiar drink on the menu. 

“Merlin’s beard,” drawled a familiar voice to his left. “How far does one have to travel to avoid the all famous Potter?” 

He turned around and swallowed the anger rising in his throat.

“Good evening to you too, Malfoy,” he finally gritted out, determined to stay polite. After all, it appeared that the Malfoys had shown remorse, or at least, Draco had. Lucius had been sent off to Azkaban after his trial and Narcissa and Draco had disappeared as soon as their trials had finished and they were found ‘guilty but remorseful and therefore not punished any further, apart from monetary reparations.’ Rumour had it that they had retreated to an old Malfoy estate in the south of France, but maybe it was Japan, if Draco was here.

The last time he’d seen his former adversary was over a year ago, when they’d taken their N.E.W.Ts, even if Draco had followed the course through mail because of his house arrest before their trial.

“You’re alone though,” Malfoy sneered. “Didn’t bring the fangirls? Or the Mudbl- Granger and Weasley?”

Harry rolled his eyes, deciding not to dwell on Malfoy’s near slip. “It might be hard for you to believe, but I didn’t exactly  _ enjoy _ all the attention after the war,  _ Malfoy. _ ” 

Malfoy scoffed and rolled his eyes but didn’t go into it, turning back towards the bar and continuing to sip his firewhiskey. 

He looked different, Harry noticed as his eyes kept on being drawn towards the sole familiar face he’d seen all week. His chin was less pointy, the dark shadows under his eyes had disappeared along with the hollow of his cheeks. It shouldn’t have been a big surprise, since the timing of their exams had been just after Narcissa’s trial. It wasn’t like Draco had any reason to feel good back then. Now his face had filled out a bit and his cheeks bore a light stubble, hardly noticeable because it had the same near-white color of his hair. He too had grown out his hair and while it could’ve made him resemble his father even more, it made him look completely different. He didn’t wear it down but had it pulled back into a neat bun, every hair teased into  its right place so he looked immaculate. 

For a second, Harry wished his own hair would be as obedient. Even if he charmed it into place or used tons of products Arthur got him from Muggle supermarkets, it led its own life. 

“See anything you like, Potter? Or are you simply contemplating how to make my life as miserable as possible while we’re in the same city once more?”

“ _ I _ never wanted you to be miserable, Malfoy,” Harry replied, but he couldn’t blame Malfoy for not believing it.

Malfoy scoffed, draining the last of his drink and demanding another from the bartender. “Give him one too,” he gestured towards Harry. “Don’t think I can handle talking to you while either of us is sober.”

It wasn’t like they talked anyway. Mostly, they sat next to each other at the bar, sipping their glasses of firewhiskey until the lights went down and they were forced to go their separate ways again. 

Over the weeks, they ran into each other at the Leaky Cauldron time after time. 

“Salazar, Potter, isn’t there another pub you can go to instead of bugging me here?” Malfoy grunted the second time.

“Bugger off, Malfoy,” Harry replied, ordering two glasses of firewhiskey as if it was a habit already. Another night of silent drinking followed, as it did the next week, and the week after that. 

Apart from a grunted “Malfoy,” and “Potter,” respectively, and the passed glasses of whiskey, not much was said. 


	3. Chapter 3

_ Dear Ginny, _

_ How’s training with the Harpies? Busy, obviously, as you’ve not been able to send me any longer letters than a few lines. _

_ No worries though, I get it.  _

_ My training here is… intense. I’m busy from sunrise ‘til sunset from Monday to Friday, and when I finally get back to the hotel, I can’t do much else than shower and sleep. Sometimes I even skip dinner, your mum would definitely scold me for being so thin.  _

_ The weekends are good though. Autumn in Tokyo is nice, and the city is still full of surprises. I walk around a lot, I’m actually on my second pair of shoes since I got here. And in the evening I go for miso soup and drinks at The Leaky. I’ve told you about the Leaky in my last letter, didn’t I? There are some other pubs, of course, but this is the only one where they serve decent butterbeer as well as firewhiskey. It’s no Ogdens, but it’ll do. I usually go out alone, but some friends from Heishi academy asked me to come along with them for tonight, apparently there’s some kind of fest and they said I shouldn’t miss it.  _

_ It’ll be nice to have an evening of fun with friends, I’ve missed that. I understand, of course, that neither you or Hermione and Ron are able to come over here for only a weekend, you’ve all got busy lives. (And Ron is probably still a bit mad at me for leaving the Aurors) But drinking at the bar alongside Malfoy isn’t even close to spending the night with a friend. That’s to be expected naturally, he’s a prick and we’ve hated each other for 8 long years. In fact, sitting on a bar stool next to him is probably a big step already.  _

_ Think he might be lonely. I never see him with anyone else and he just sits there, staring in front of him while sipping his whiskey.  _

_ Then again, I’m sure he thinks the same about me. Am I lonely? Maybe, but at least I know I’ve got you guys waiting for me at home. Only another month before I get to come home for Christmas leave. Two weeks to spend with you all, I’ll have to bottle it up to get through the next six months.  _

_ I’d love to hear from you, write when you can? _

_ Love, _

_ Harry. _

_ PS: adding this on Sunday: the fest was crazy. Japanese wizards know how to party, apparently. I’m terribly hungover but still going out to find an owl to get this to England.  _

  
  
  


_ Harry, _

_ Sorry I don’t write more often. Training is really crazy. Coach wants us on our brooms 6 out of 7 for at least 8 hours a day. My butt needs its own masseur. It’s still fun though, and I suppose that’s what counts. _

_ Saw Ron last week when I went home on Sunday. Don’t think he’s still mad, but you know him… he’s even worse at talking about his feelings than you are. I’m sure you’ll be fine when you come home for Christmas. I’m looking forward to seeing you, when I’ve got the time to think about you, I actually miss you sometimes :P  _

_ Only two more weeks… Please don’t bring Malfoy, not even if he ugly cries into your shirt about how lonely he is.  _

_ He can spend Christmas with his death eater friends in Azkaban. _

_ Love you, _

_ Ginny. _

When Harry walked into the Leaky that evening, Ginny’s letter still lingered in his thoughts. Was Malfoy really lonely? Of course he would never ugly cry into Harry’s shirt, if Malfoy ever ugly cried at all, he probably just wiped a tear with the tip of his pinkie before continuing the day. But still. It seemed like he was alone here, too, and Harry knew for a fact that a lot of his friends hadn’t survived the war, and if they did, most of them were punished and put into Azkaban or house arrest. It only struck him now that what he actually found weirdest about seeing Malfoy here, was that he was on his own. Before, he had pretty much always been flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe was… well burnt to ashes, probably, who knew for sure what had actually gone on in the Room of Requirement that night? And Goyle was sent to Azkaban for 5 years, along with his father, if Harry remembered correctly. 

“Are you going home for Christmas?” 

They were on their third glass of whiskey and Harry was sure the bartender would be kicking them out soon. There weren’t many patrons left and the ones that were still around, were either drunk already or not drinking enough.

“My home is here now,” Malfoy replied, pulling a face as he took a too-big sip of his whiskey. He shook his head a little. “I’d burn the Manor down to the ground if I could, but Mother won’t let me.”

Okay, maybe Malfoy was drunk after all. This had to be the most words Harry had ever heard him say without insulting him.

“Is she coming over here, then?” he asked, unsure if he should even ask. He felt like he had overstepped at the first question, but it also felt wrong not to continue their stilted conversation now that they finally had one.

Malfoy scoffed. “No” He drained the last of his glass and nodded stiffly. “Evening, Potter, time to call it a night.”

And with that, he stood up, pulled on his cloak and disappeared into the ever busy streets. 

  
  


***

“Do you really need to go?” Ginny whined, pulling her best puppy dog eyes in order to persuade him to stay a little longer. She was truly a sight to see, and if Harry didn’t know he would have to wait for another three days if he didn’t get today’s Portkey, which would make him miss two important training days with Akira, he wouldn’t have hesitated to jump back into bed with her. She looked thoroughly fucked, her ginger hair a complete mess on her pillow and a blissed out smile on her lips that even the puppy dog eyes couldn’t chase away. 

“Yes, I do, and you know it,” Harry grinned, leaning down to press another lingering kiss to her lips. 

“But it’ll be six months before you’re back,” she lamented.

“I know, but you can always come to Tokyo if you want. And if not, I’m quite sure we’ve made enough memories to last us until June.” He threw the strap of his backpack over his shoulder and gave her one last kiss. “Go back to sleep, you’ll regret it if you don’t,” he told her and after a quick wave, disapparated from their bedroom, straight into the apparition point at the international Portkey station. 

The Christmas holidays had been wonderful. Christmas itself at the Weasley’s wasn’t any different from the previous years, except for tiny little baby Victoire, Fleur and Bill's little girl. There was laughter and love and a lot of food, as always. And even if Fred wasn't there in person, there were so many stories told that it almost seemed like he was. 

Apart from two evenings spent with Ron and Hermione, where he learnt that Ginny was right and Ron wasn’t angry, just happy that he was happier now, he and Ginny had hardly left their bed, let alone the house. 

It wasn’t that they had only had sex together, though it still took up a large portion of their time. They just enjoyed being together and talking about everything and nothing. 

He’d missed that, the knowledge that Ginny was before all, still his best friend. He knew he could always write to her, and she would write back when she had the time, but it just wasn’t the same. 

  
  


***

  
  


Winter in Tokyo was cold.  _ Really  _ cold. Harry had known that, of course, at least rationally. But three days after his return to Japan he knew he hadn’t been prepared. Even the strongest warming charms didn’t match up to the icy wind and the snow storms, and his fingers and toes often felt like they were going to fall off. That was why, on a particularly cold Saturday evening, Harry forewent his usual stool at the bar, but ordered his whiskey and found himself a seat at the lounge corner near the fireplace. There were six armchairs, grouped in pairs, and the middle group was still vacant while the other four chairs were occupied by thirty-something witches chatting to each other while drinking bright green flaming cocktails. 

Harry had only just made himself comfortable in his armchair, cloak and winter gear abandoned to the coat rack near the door, when he noticed Malfoy coming in. Should he… wave? Let him know one way or another he was here? Apart from that one time before Christmas, they hadn’t said anything to each other but a short greeting, but their drinking together at the bar still felt like a kind of ritual to Harry. He didn’t have to contemplate what to do for long though, because before he reached a decision, Malfoy had noticed him near the fireplace. He brought his own glass of fire whiskey over and gracefully sat down in the armchair. Harry inwardly rolled his eyes. How did he even do that? Harry always just… plopped down in armchairs and sofas, but Malfoy would still look regal if he sat down on a bean bag. 

“Potter,” Malfoy nodded, acknowledging him by raising his glass before he drank from it. “Change of scenery.”

It wasn’t a question, but Harry couldn’t help answering it. “I was freezing. Even Hogwarts wasn’t as cold as  _ this _ .” 

Malfoy chuckled shortly, rubbing his own hands as if he sympathised with the sentiment. 

From that night on, something changed. It wasn’t that they talked much, and if they did, it was never about their past. 

But after a month or so, Harry had learned that Malfoy was in Tokyo for an apprenticeship in potions, dividing his time between a professor at Mahoutokoro and an ancient potioneer who lived and worked in a dingy alley near Harry’s hotel. Malfoy on the other hand had been surprised about Harry leaving the Aurors, sneering that he’d expected him to become Minister of Magic within ten years, with the way everyone lay at his feet at the Ministry and far beyond. 

Harry found that, since he and Ginny wrote to each other less and less over the weeks, he started to look forward to his Saturday evening spent at the Leaky with Malfoy. Even if they weren’t deep conversations, Malfoy was still a familiar face in the craziness that was his apprenticeship in Tokyo. It was… nice, maybe? 

The first night Harry noticed a true change in their relationship was on a Saturday evening in March. The weather was slowly changing, temperature easing into spring and Harry finally felt able to leave his hat and gloves at the hotel again. 

The pub was packed with drunk Japanese wizards and witches. There would be a Quidditch tournament over the weekend, and the big screen opposite the bar had shown extended pre-analyses for hours already. It made Harry think of Ginny. He hadn’t heard from her for a couple of weeks now, but that had become their new normal. He didn’t really know what to tell her in his letters anymore, since she hardly ever wrote him back. He realised he missed her, but most of all he missed playing quidditch himself. He hadn’t made many friends here yet, at least not the kind of friends that invited him over for a friendly game like he’d had pretty much every weekend in London. Maybe the Japanese just didn’t play as much in their own gardens as the Brits did, he wasn’t sure. 

It must’ve been an explosive mixture of melancholy and too much firewhiskey, for somehow their conversation drifted from their respective training and lives in Tokyo, to the people they’d left behind in Britain. 

“I would’ve thought you’d end up with Parkinson,” Harry slurred, looking confused when Malfoy started laughing like a madman. “What? You always got along well, you were equally mean and well, she’s kind of pretty, if you’re into that… type,” Harry added offendedly, classifying the rather pleasant sound of Malfoy’s laughter into a brainfolder to think about later, maybe.

Malfoy snorted one last time before taking another sip from his drink. “Well, let’s just say I’m not into that type, then.” He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the screen where they were currently showing recaps of the greatest moments of last year’s tournament. 

“It’s such a shame they don’t broadcast the British league,” he complained, “Though I have to admit some of the Japanese teams are wicked. I’ve seen them practice at Mahoutokoro, over the ocean where it nearly always storms, and some of their moves even look crazy over a grassy pitch.” 

“‘Ve you ever been then? To a match?” Harry asked, already forgetting his confusion about Malfoy’s remark on Parkinson in favour of a conversation about quidditch. 

“Yeah, a couple of times, last season,” Draco nodded. “And I always try to watch the housecup matches at school as well. Wish I had the time to play.”

“I wish I could’ve brought my Firebolt,” Harry admitted sadly, thinking about how he had had to leave it in the Weasley’s broomshed due to a lack of space to fly it while he stayed here. “I miss flying.”

After that, the tournament began, so their conversation halted. They just watched the match and kept drinking slowly but steadily until the pub closed and they were thrown out on the streets. 

“Night, Malfoy,” Harry muttered, already dreading the rather long walk to his hotel. “Wanna come back tomorrow for the finals?” 

It was the first time they spoke of their get-togethers as something else as mere coincidence, though Malfoy also had to know that meeting up every Saturday evening around the same time could hardly be called a coincidence anymore. 

Malfoy stopped in his tracks, frowned a little and then nodded. “Yes, good. I’ll be here at two.”

Harry smiled drunkenly. “See you then.”

The final match lasted hours. It was to be expected, since it was Japan’s best two teams competing against each other, but Harry was still glad that Monday was a public holiday and therefore a day off. He didn’t think he had ever been this drunk before. Firewhiskey had been served to their table in a near constant stream for almost 10 hours when finally, the snitch was caught and the match ended. In only ten minutes time, the entire pub was suddenly deserted apart from him and Malfoy. Quickly, they decided to keep their dignity and avoid being asked to vacate the premises and pulled on their cloaks before stumbling out the door.  _ Ha, at least Malfoy’s as drunk as I am,  _ Harry thought to himself as he adjusted his cloak against the nightly temperatures.

“I can’t apparate,” he whined. “I’ll splinch myself in at least five pieces. And I don’t suppose there’s a Knight Bus around here.”

“Thank Merlin there isn’t, traffic is crazy enough without one. Where’s your hotel?” Malfoy slurred, apparently realising how he’d never bothered to ask.

“Other side of town, near the dragon’s bridge.”

Malfoy laughed, loud and uninhibited and Harry once again noticed how - friendly - it sounded. “You’ll never make it there in one piece by foot either. That’s at least a half an hour walk in sober conditions. C’mon Potter. ‘Ve got a couch you can sleep on for the night, wouldn’t want your getting lost on my conscience.”

Harry was a bit confused by the offer, but it was still better than having to walk all the way to his hotel, so he finally shrugged his consent and followed the blond boy - man now, he supposed - as he took off down the street. Traffic was still bustling, even at this late - or early - hour, but Harry didn’t really take notice as they wandered down the broad boulevard and then took a turn into a much quieter, narrower street leading towards a quaint square. The houses there weren’t like the skyscrapers or the narrow traditional houses he’d seen in the busier part of town. Instead he found large mansions, still showing traditional Japanese architecture but it was clear that it was here that the wealthier wizards of Tokyo resided. 

“Didn’t know your family had an estate here,” Harry mumbled, catching himself on a lamp post as he tripped over his own feet.

Malfoy snorted. “Because we don’t, you asshole. I’m staying in the broomshed of some old friend of my father’s, who somehow doesn’t know about politics in Britain, or at least pretends not to know.” He turned right once they passed a red and black mansion, opening the gate and leading them towards the back, all the way through a beautiful Japanese garden, cherry blossoms scenting the air around them. 

“This is a broomshed?” Harry asked incredulously when they made a stop in front of a large door. The so-called shed was about as large as the Dursley’s entire house. 

“That’s what they call it anyway.” Malfoy shrugged, as if he didn’t find it a bit outrageous himself. “And they do keep their brooms in here, there’s just also a bedroom, a full bathroom, a kitchen and a living room in there.”

“Rich people are crazy,” Harry slurred, finding his way inside after Malfoy once he’d put on the lights.

Malfoy just hummed non-commitally and accio’d a blanket that hit Harry straight in the face upon arrival. It might have been intentional, but Harry decided he wouldn’t ask. A pillow was summoned right behind, and before long, Harry was installed on the softest coach he’d ever felt, ready to doze off into an alcohol-induced sleep.

Not nearly enough hours of sleep later, he woke up to the pale sunlight filtering through the flimsy curtains lining the window. There was a small bottle labeled as “hangover potion, should improve the taste” on the living room table. He eyed it warily, not sure if he should trust any kind of potion Malfoy left for him. Then again, he was quite certain that by this point, he wouldn’t poison him, so he thought he’d take the risk. Especially when he moved his head and it felt as if Teddy had left his gobstones in his head to roll around and splash his brains with mucus. He uncorked the bottle, braved himself as he pinched his nose before downing the entire contents in one go. 

“Ugh,” he mumbled, the taste definitely needed improvement. Gratefully, after a couple of minutes he noticed he started feeling better already. Alive, at least. And hungry. 

Once his legs felt like they could be trusted to carry him, he first went on a search for the bathroom and then, spurred on by his growling stomach, headed into the kitchen. He hesitated for a moment, but since he couldn’t hear any movement from the rest of the house - broomshed, he reminded himself in disbelief - and he was  _ really _ hungry, he decided he could at least look into the fridge to see if there was anything edible.

A carton of eggs was the first thing he found. And then: “Bacon! And hash browns!” Having forgotten about his hesitance, Harry started loading all ingredients he stumbled upon on the counter, mind set on a full English now that he had the chance. His hotel’s breakfast buffet wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t even close to an English breakfast either. He found tomatoes and bread as well, and was humming under his breath while cutting everything up before pouring it into the sizzling pan on the hob. 

“Pretend to be at home, why don’t you?” he heard a sneer coming from behind him.

He rolled his eyes, but still apologised. “Yeah, sorry, I was planning to find a little something to eat, but then I stumbled upon the treasury that is your fridge, and wanted to make a proper breakfast.” He turned around and shrugged at Malfoy. “But I did make enough for the both of us, should be done in a couple of minutes.”

Malfoy scoffed at that, muttered something about how this wasn’t bad enough already and disappeared into the bathroom where Harry heard the shower running over the sizzling bacon in the pan. He reappeared not 15 minutes later, scratching absently at his three day  stubble as he accepted the plate Harry handed to him before sitting down. 

“This is actually good!” he mumbled through his first mouthful, surprising Harry and himself by his genuine compliment. Ignoring the flush spreading over his pale skin, he continued. “Where did you even learn how to cook? Didn’t you grow up in an orphanage or something?”

Harry choked on his mouthful and took his time preparing himself to answer. After putting away the posh napkin and taking a sip of Earl Grey, he bit his bottom lip and then settled on “Not an orphanage no. At my mum’s sister, though an orphanage might have been better than the Dursley’s.”

Malfoy eyed him wearily, as if this information changed everything he thought he knew about Harry. Finally, he hummed before continuing his meal.

Harry felt weird. This entire situation was weird. Having a hangover breakfast with Draco Malfoy wasn’t something he’d ever expected to be doing. Ever. And yet, here he was. He’d slept on his couch after a night where he had gotten drunk and maybe told a bit too much about himself, though he couldn’t be sure because he hardly remembered who had won the Quidditch tournament, let alone their conversation over the night. 

He sighed. “Fuck off, Malfoy, it’s not as if you would ever care about my crappy childhood.”

Malfoy huffed. “Yes, because learning how to cook is truly a hardship, of course.”

Harry bristled, clenching his fists. “What would you know? Had you ever even seen a kitchen from close by before you came here? I’m actually surprised that you didn’t bring any house elves to do the job for you. Isn’t that how your life works?”

“Screw you, Potter,” Malfoy hissed. “You think you know so much about my life. Well let me tell you this; you have no fucking idea. Besides, if having to learn how to cook is what makes a childhood crappy in your opinion, I can only pity you, Potter.”

Harry closed his eyes in disbelief. Were they really doing this? 

“How about having to cook for everyone and not getting anything but the leftovers?” he gritted out, shaking his head slightly. “But of course, I wouldn’t expect  _ you _ to know anything about how normal people live, even if they’re not mistreated. Of course you’ve always been treated like a little prince, the only heir of the Malfoy family fortune, born to be rich and powerful.” He pushed his chair away from the table, only throwing a small regretful glance at his still half full plate and stood up, catching his chair at the last minute before it toppled over. “I have no idea why I thought hanging out with you was a good idea,  _ Malfoy, _ ” he spat, “I should’ve known you’d never change.” 

He stormed off, or at least, he tried to, stopped when Malfoy grabbed his arm and stared him in the eye with gritted teeth. “How dare you,” he all but growled. “Have I been privileged? Sure. But don’t you come and tell me I’ve lived like a prince,  _ Potter,”  _ he spat _. _

“Unless you think it’s common for a prince to spend half of their life in fear of the monster their father has become, let alone the monster he has invited to live in your house.” He looked at where he held Harry’s arm in his clenched fingers and let go, pushing Harry’s arm back towards his body, apparently taken aback by the way he had touched him as if it was not a big deal for them. 

“Do you think it was easy to live with the Dark Lord in the house? Do you think I wasn’t scared every fucking day that he was going to kill me, or my mother, or even my father, even if I didn’t recognise him as my father? Did you ever stop to think about how I tried staying awake every night because I was afraid he was going to come into my room, despite all the barricades I put up, to kill me? You think I didn’t try every single spell I knew off to get rid of this?” He grabbed his sleeve and thrust his forearm in Harry’s face. The dark mark was faded, but still visible on his skin. 

Harry gasped at the sight, visibly deflating. He closed his eyes to compose himself. He could hear nothing but his own harsh breathing in unison with Malfoy’s. “Look, Malfoy, maybe we just have to accept that we’ll never understand each other. Maybe we’re just too different to get along.”

“Maybe,” Malfoy admitted, fingers fumbling at his sides. He turned around to sit down again, the legs of his chair scraping over the floor, stopping short when Harry spoke up again. 

He wasn’t sure where the words came from, but he felt he still meant them anyway.

“But maybe we’re more alike than we both think  _ or  _ like. I’m not here in Tokyo because London was so much fun lately, and I’m pretty sure being on the run is at least part of why you are here. So maybe… maybe it’s okay to be different and still enjoy the fact that we’re each other’s only reminder of home here.”

The tension between them was still palpable in the air when Malfoy continued to sit at the table, cutlery scraping over his porcelain plate. Harry willed himself to further calm down, pushing the red flaring magic threatening to overflow back down like he’d been taught by the auror’s mind healer. Once he felt calmer, he opened his eyes again and noticed the brooms stashed in a corner of the hallway. “Is- is it okay if I go flying? In the garden, I mean.”

Malfoy looked up from his plate, locking eyes with him for a second before nodding stiffly. “Yeah. Nobody’s here but us. It’s fine.”

Harry could still feel Malfoy’s eyes burning on his neck as he walked outside, broom clasped firmly in his hand. The sun was out but as it was still March, it was rather cold, so he cast a warming charm around himself, and an extra strong one on his hands before kicking off. Feeling the wind whipping his hair around his face and blowing the worries out of his mind made him realise exactly how much he’d missed flying. He hadn’t been on a broom since he’d left London, and even then it had been no more than once a week, busy with auror training and then at Hogwarts he hadn’t had much time for flying either. 

He had no idea how long he’d been out when suddenly he saw Malfoy stepping outside with a broom of his own. The blond man kicked off the ground and quickly rose to where Harry was flying in between the tall trees surrounding the garden. 

It didn’t take long before they fell into their natural competitive spirit, racing after each other, showing off their best skills and both visibly enjoying themselves. 

Harry’s fingers seemed to be frozen around his broom by the time they finally decided to head back inside, hair wild around their wind-reddened cheeks. “There’s hot chocolate under a stasis charm,” Malfoy pointed to the counter. “And you’re welcome to use the shower when I’m done.”

Harry had finished his hot chocolate when Malfoy emerged from the shower, usually pale skin now pink from the hot water but his hair, while still slightly damp, already coiffed immaculately. He still hadn’t shaved, and Harry found his eyes lingering on the way the sun caught in his stubble, making it glisten as if Malfoy had some sort of glittery halo around his chin. 

When pointed to the bathroom, Harry found it to be small, yet convenient and neat. Malfoy obviously was the type to have a place for everything and everything in its place. He found shower gel exactly where Malfoy had told him it would be, as well as shampoo and a towel. There wasn’t an extra tooth brush to be found, so a quick spell would have to solve that. 

Once he had washed off his sweat and the remnants of his hangover, he dried off, tried hopelessly to get his hair to behave but he wasn’t going to get it any tamer than the messy half bun he donned on weekdays. 

When he was done, he found Malfoy puttering around in the kitchen, probably cleaning the mess he had left while making breakfast, Harry realised suddenly.

He wasn’t sure how to proceed now. It was clear that a dam had been broken, their relationship evolved from enemies to acquaintances and then… this. Were they friends now? Not exactly, but it was closer to that than being simply acquaintances, he felt. 

He didn’t want to overstay his welcome though, so he cleared his throat and announced his departure when Draco looked up from where he was organising something in his fridge.

“Oh, yes, okay. See you then, Potter,” he offered, a short nod accompanied by the lifting of the left corner of his upper lip. 

“Yeah, see you,” Harry replied, already turning around to grab his coat when he had second thoughts. “I mean, unless you want to come? I don’t have any real plans, just thought to grab a miso soup somewhere and maybe look around the city, see if there’s anything special to see or do today.” He was rambling, he thought, inwardly rolling his eyes at his own awkwardness. Why was he always like this? He was fine around the people he knew well, and for a long time, but around others, he sometimes felt like a baby deer trying to stand up for the first time. Inadequate and helpless.

He was ready to turn back around, get his coat and really leave this time, when Draco’s baritone sounded through the kitchen.

“I think I might.”

Harry did a double take, but felt a smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, great,” he offered, glad that he wouldn’t be alone for the rest of the day, and happy with the company, even if it was Malfoy.

He showed Harry what the best stall for take away miso soup was, as well as some tea shops he liked. The sun was still out and trying hard to warm up earth and the people wandering it. By the time they reached one of Tokyo’s large parks, the scent of the cherry blossoms thick in the air, Harry had unbuttoned his cloak, face turned up to the sky to catch some sun.

“I hadn’t realised how much I missed spring,” he sighed. “Oh look, there’s a flea market over there, let’s go check it out!”

The rest of the afternoon was spent at the flea market, both men drawn to different magical artifacts. Harry looked at ancient family treasures, while Draco paused at stalls where antique engraved cauldrons and stirring rods were sold by wizards and witches who looked old enough to have engraved them themselves. 

It was dark by the time they said their goodbyes, somewhere between Draco’s house and Harry’s hotel, and even then, Harry felt like the day hadn’t been long enough. 

“I had fun today, Malfoy,” he muttered as they neared the corner where their ways would part. “Thanks.”

“You’re quite alright, Potter.” Draco replied, appraisingly. “It  _ was _ fun. See you later.”


	4. Chapter 4

After that day, they saw each other more often. Saturday remained their fixed appointment at the Leaky Cauldron, where they had permanently moved from the bar to the armchairs, or if they weren’t available, to a table in the back. They talked more as well, even without needing loads of alcohol. Not that they stopped making a dent in the Leaky’s whiskey-stock, but somehow, it had become easier to share things with one another. 

Draco talked about his apprenticeship, but also about why he had taken it. Between the lines, Harry heard how complicated the relationship with his parents had become and how Malfoy Manor was no longer his home, but rather a place where his nightmares took place.

Harry felt it created some sort of bond, knowing that he wasn’t the only one who still wrestled with the emotional toll from the war. While they had been in the middle of it, it had seemed like the other side had it easier, but seeing and hearing Malfoy made it clear that it wasn’t as black and white as he had always believed it was. And just like Snape wasn’t all black and white (in fact, he still was a very complicated shade of grey to Harry), Malfoy wasn’t either. 

It made it easier to share things about himself as well. About how he wanted to teach at Hogwarts, how their 8th year had somehow managed to overwrite the bad memories with warm ones of shared grief and hope for a better future. 

Even if their relationship eased slowly towards a friendship, be it a tentative one, they never spoke of their friends. It was as if their British lives were a different chapter, and Harry felt as if there was still too much ground uncovered, too many things unspoken to include that in their relationship. They never spoke of Malfoy’s letter, expressing his grievance about his wrongdoings in the war and the years before, and his gratefulness for Harry’s testimony at his trial. Never discussed all things that went badly between them while they were at school, just seemed to come to a mutual silent agreement that this was a new, different part of their lives. 

On Saturday, they decided, depending on the weather forecast and their respective plans, if they would see each other on Sunday. They would do some flying in the morning, and often spend the afternoon together, doing whatever they pleased, together or apart. 

Spring brought lovely weather, so Harry found himself flying over Malfoy’s gigantic garden almost every week, savouring how good it felt to be up in the air. As time went by, he sometimes found himself sleeping over on Malfoy’s couch on Saturdays, so he didn’t have to make the trek to his hotel at night and then back to Malfoy’s in the morning. He never asked, but when Malfoy proposed it, he never declined either. 

It felt nice, to have a semblance of domesticity, even though he still lived in a hotel room. Someone to just  _ be _ with as well. With Ginny still in England and her letters even more sparse and far between, and Hermione and Ron busy with their own lives, he had missed that. 

One Sunday, they’d just gotten back inside after a couple of hours of flying. Harry was flopped down on the couch, the bedding still scrunched up at the armrest where he’d left it when he’d woken up in the morning. 

He smiled at the sounds of Draco whistling softly while he shaved. 

He’d witnessed him grow more comfortable around Harry, more confident about who he was and what his skills were. Harry had watched him work on his potions often on their lazy afternoons and admired his determination and skill. Draco possessed a patience Harry could never even dream of, and he supposed that was why potions was never his strong suit, even if Snape as a teacher definitely never helped. 

“Shower’s all yours,” Draco muttered as he smacked Harry around the head with the towel he’d been using to dry his hair. It stuck out around his head like a bright halo against the sun shining through the kitchen window. Harry felt warmth blossom in his stomach as he watched the crooked grin on Draco’s face. He looked happy, and Harry felt grateful to be a part of that.

  
  


_ Dear Harry, _

_ I’m so sorry, it’s been ages since I’ve last written to you! Things at the ministry have been absolutely mental, with Kingsley running for his second term as minister. If we thought we had all blood supremacists defeated after the war, we were obviously wrong. They’re trying to find the craziest scandals on him, while also petitioning the retraction of some of the equal rights laws we’ve established over this term. Sometimes I’m so busy I forget my own name. Luckily Percy’s helping me out a lot. He’s changed so much since the Battle Harry, it’s wonderful. Molly still tears up every time he comes through the door at The Burrow (just like she does when George enters, and Fred doesn’t follow). George is doing alright, or so it looks. I don’t know if you’ve heard, he’s mentioned that the two of you write sometimes, but he’s broken up with Angelina. He’s keeping himself busy with the shop though, and he’s hired Lee to help him out with it. Even if I don’t always agree with their merchandise, I’m proud of what he has accomplished.  _

_ Ron is also busy at work, they’re graduating at the end of June and his internships are brutal. It’s as if the elder Aurors really want to test the “postwar-generation” as they’re called. See if they live up to their reputation. _

_ How are things in Tokyo? Ron says you’ll have to teach him some of the things you’ve learned from the Heishi’s, it sounded really interesting in your last letter. Okay, Ron said it sounded mental, which I’ve translated to interesting. Yes, he’s making me write this explanation as well.  _

_ So, as you can probably tell, apart from being busy, we’re doing good. We’ve been looking at houses to buy, now that Ron will soon graduate. It just seems stupid to keep renting a flat when we can have a place of our own. It’s not that easy though, we either want something with a good and not too busy apparition point nearby, or with a certified connection to the floo network. And Ron wants a garden to play quidditch while I want a study. I’m afraid it will take a while before we find something. _

_ Thank you for asking about my parents. Things are much the same, I’m afraid. They’re doing well, overall, but their memory is still flawed and they can’t resume working. It’s a good thing they still have our old house, dad is keeping busy in his old carpentry workshop in the shed, while mum does a lot of gardening. The healers at St Mungo’s said they can’t be sure if anything is still going to change, so I try to be grateful to have them around still, while they’re relatively happy.  _

_ Anyway, I’m sure I’ve bored you enough with our lives here in England. What I’ve really wanted to tell you about, is that Ron and I both managed to get a couple of days off after election day. We’ve talked about it, and we’d like to travel to Tokyo, Harry. We really miss having you around and we’re curious to see all the things you’ve written about for ourselves. I’m afraid the cherry blossoms will be gone by then, but still. Would it be alright for you if we came to visit you the last week of May? We’d be staying from Thursday ‘til Sunday evening. If so, would you be so kind to book us a room at your hotel? And let us know in your reply, of course, haha.  _

_ Anyway, I’ve got to go, it’s Sunday so we’re expected at the Burrow for dinner. I’m already sure everyone will send you their love, as well as we send ours, _

_ lots of love, _

_ Hermione _

Harry bit his lip in guilt when he put down the letter. Of course he missed his best friends, he missed being able to call them, or just hang out, but still, the first thing he felt when reading about them wanting to visit, was dread. He still wanted to see them, but them staying for the weekend, meant missing a weekend spent with Draco. Malfoy, he corrected himself. Lately, he found himself referring to him in thoughts more and more by his first name, even if he wasn’t sure where it came from. 

He shook the guilt off and sat down at his small desk, penning a quick reply about how he would love for them to visit so he could show them Tokyo. 

“Draco, do you want some more rice crackers?” Harry called from the doorway to the kitchen, looking at where Draco was stirring a steaming potion. He watched on as Draco froze, looked up with his eyes large in surprise. Oh. Right. “Uhm, I mean, it’s your name, isn’t it?” he added, a bit sheepishly. 

Draco snorted. “It is, yes, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say it before.”

“Do you mind? I mean, I can go back to calling you Malfoy, if that’s what you prefer.” Harry rambled, squeezing the bag of rice crackers between fumbling hands.

“It’s fine.  _ Harry. _ It’s just a name, isn’t it?” 

Harry couldn’t help but think it seemed to be so much more than just a name, but said nothing.

“And yes, I want some more crackers, before you eat them all, like last time.”

That evening, Harry sat on the couch, reading a book on the importance of having enough practice while teaching when he suddenly thought of something. He looked up to where Draco was studying at the kitchen table, only just visible through the doorway, to find him looking his way. He frowned at the way a slight blush coloured Draco’s cheeks, but dismissed it when Draco cleared his throat, reminding him of what he wanted to ask. “Could I put a practice dummy in the garden here? I mean, I’ll be careful not to damage the house or the garden with any spells, but I’m thinking I could do with some more training over the weekend. Especially to keep the British things they don’t have or do here a bit fresh in my mind.”

Draco shrugged. “Sure. I’m here alone most of the time as it is. Now that the weather is nice the Yamamoto’s are staying at their house in the country. Just bring it along next week if you’d like.”

Fuck. That was right. He still hadn’t told Draco about that.

“Uhm, yeah, about next week…” before Draco could reply, he quickly added, “Ron and Hermione are coming for a visit, so I’ll be showing them around Tokyo. They only leave on Sunday evening, so…”

“It’s fine, Potter,” Draco replied, a bit harshly, maybe. “It’s not like we have a set date for every weekend or something. Go and have fun with your friends.”

Harry went back to his hotel not much later, a dreadful feeling having settled in his stomach that he couldn’t get rid of until he went to bed, where he slept restlessly.

***

Ron hugged him warmly before letting Hermione do the same thing, her soft hair tickling his nose as she held him tight. 

“It was so good to see you, Harry. You’re obviously happy here, doing what you love,” Hermione said.

“I am, yeah,” Harry grinned, pulling back from her embrace.

“It’ll be even better to have you back at home though, we’ve missed you. But it’s only a little over a month before you return, isn’t it?”

“Hmm, yes,” Harry nodded, suddenly having to force his smile to stay on his lips. “I’ll be back right before Ginny’s final match of the season, and of course, this one’s graduation,” he shoved at Ron’s shoulder. 

“Mum will be very pleased to have her seventh son back,” Ron added, smiling. “We have to go now though, Hermione, our Portkey’s gonna leave without us if we don’t hurry.” 

Hermione sucked in a breath and nodded, giving Harry another quick hug as she picked up her rucksack. 

“See ya, mate.”

And with that, his two best friends disappeared back to their lives in England. None the wiser about how his life in Tokyo now involved a friendship with Draco Malfoy.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to tell them, he just didn’t really know how. He had somehow hoped to run into him when they spent Saturday evening at the Leaky, but he wasn’t there, so that had taken away the perfect opportunity as well.

***

The next week, Draco  _ did _ show up, and Harry only realised how anxious he had been that maybe he wouldn’t, when he felt the relief coursing through his stiff shoulder muscles, feeling them relax in an instant. It took them a while to get back into a comfortable conversation, but it still happened in time for Draco to invite him over to his place the next morning, and bring the training dummy he had been talking about. 

On Sunday evening, he was on Draco’s couch, looking through one of Draco’s potions magazines after an entire afternoon training with his dummy. He’d been working on his Patronus charm, trying to figure out what made it such a hard spell to teach. Lupin had made it seem so easy, but it turned out to be the hardest one so far. 

He  _ knew _ of course that it was an advanced spell, not even all N.E.W.T. students were able to perform it, and even a lot of grown up wizards never managed a proper one. Still, he found it a most useful spell, not only to fight off dementors (which he hoped most people would never have to do) but also to communicate in a quick and easy way. And, if he managed to procure his patronus on a bad day, it always provided him with some sort of comfort.

He yawned, tired of a long day outside and decided he should head back to his hotel and to bed, when an owl tapped the window he sat next to. He frowned, glancing at Draco who was completely immersed in his notes and got up, letting the owl inside to untie the letter on its leg. “Harry Potter” read the satin blue ribbon that held the scroll rolled up and tied to the owl’s leg. He absentmindedly fished a stale owl treat from the bottom of his pocket, apologised when the owl hooted indignantly and opened the scroll. 

His eyes skimmed the lines, his mood changing from confused to angry to disappointed. 

“What are you huffing and puffing about Potter?” Draco asked from the other side of the room.

Harry huffed a small laugh as he sank down on the couch once more. “It’s a notice from my hotel. They’re very sorry, but there has been a burst pipe and they need me to vacate the room for the renovations. The day after tomorrow at the latest. I don’t know where to find a hotel room for another three weeks, especially with the Tanabata-festival coming up. All hotels will be fully booked. Maybe if I can leave a week early… I’m gonna have to take tomorrow off to look for a new place to stay and to move all my things.”

When Draco was still silent after a full minute, Harry looked up from where he had been rubbing his face with his hands.

He found Draco chewing his bottom lip, an absent look in his eyes, apparently deep in thought. As Harry made a move to stand up, resigned to find a solution for this inconvenience, he finally spoke up.

“You can stay here, if you want. I mean, it’s only for three weeks, and you’re right about hotels being full for Tanabata,” he reasoned. “Besides, you’re here most weekends anyway, it’s about time you chip in for the food you eat while you sleep on my couch instead of spending your money on some ridiculously expensive hotel room.”

Harry felt warmth bloom inside his stomach. “If you’re sure?” he asked tentatively.

Draco nodded firmly, eyes back on his coursework. “I am. We’ll have some house rules, of course, but I think we should be able to survive three weeks in which we’ll mostly be at work anyway.”

“Alright, thank you, Draco.This means a lot.” Harry smiled. If it had been someone else, he would have probably gone in for a hug, but he wasn’t sure if Draco would appreciate that. Whenever Harry came closer, he could see and feel Draco’s shoulder stiffen, so Harry had concluded that Draco wasn’t too fond of physical contact and tried to respect that. 

“I’ll come back tomorrow after work with my things, if that’s alright? I’ll bring takeaway as my first rent.”

“Have you looked at this house?” Draco sneered, half a smile playing around his mouth. “Better be fancy takeaway then.”

“The best Tokyo has to offer,” Harry promised, grabbing his coat to pull it on. “See you tomorrow then, Draco.”

“Tomorrow, Harry.”

When Harry arrived with his stuff and the fancy takeaway as promised, Draco had only just returned home. Over dinner, they agreed on the house rules (Draco’s bedroom was off limits for Harry, knock before entering the bathroom, no naked sleeping on the couch, ask before you grab the last of anything from the fridge or the cupboard, do your own laundry, clean up after yourself) and after that Draco retired to his room, claiming he was tired from work and leaving Harry to get settled in the living room. 

Apart from it being seven days a week, not much changed between them. They both did whatever they wanted or needed to do, sometimes ending up doing some activity together (like listening to the wireless or cooking). 

The three weeks flew by before either of them realised. 

“I’ve got my last day at the ministry tomorrow,” Harry told Draco on the last Monday of his stay with a mouth full of the rice bowl Draco’d prepared for the both of them. 

“Oh?” Draco managed to look surprised about his message and indignant about Harry’s absent table manners at the same time. 

“Yeah, can’t believe it’s already over. I’ve learned so much, but at the same time I feel like I know absolutely nothing and I’ll probably be the worst defence teacher Hogwarts has ever seen.”

Draco snorted. “Do you hear yourself? Think back to our own defence teachers, I'm certain  _ even you _ can’t be worse than Quirrell or Lockhart.”

Harry let out an involuntary bark of laughter. “Not even me, wow, such a heartfelt compliment Draco. I’m so honored.”

Draco’s grinned but it faded quickly. “When are you leaving?”

“Friday, I think. Ginny’s last match of the season is on Sunday, might as well go and watch. She’ll be off for the rest of the summer after that. And Ron’s graduation is on Monday. Could probably use the weekend for unpacking and making myself at home again.”

Maybe he imagined it, but it seemed as if the light in Draco’s eyes had dimmed a bit. He was pretty sure he  _ didn’t _ imagine the bitterness in his tone when he answered: “Yeah, you’ll need some time for the big reunion with the girlfriend, of course.” Draco gathered his napkin, chopsticks and still half full bowl of rice and dropped all of it in the sink with a loud clatter before disappearing to his bedroom. 

When Harry came home the next evening, the windows were dark. He was late because Akira had treated him to a traditional Japanese meal with way too much sake, but usually Draco would leave a light on in the living room when he went to bed and Harry wasn’t home yet. And more often than not, Draco was on the couch still reading or asleep with his book still in his lap.

Harry didn’t understand what had gone wrong. The both of them had always known that Harry’s stay in Tokyo, and at Draco’s house, was temporary. Even if Draco never spoke about going back to England, Harry’s friends were there, his girlfriend was, as well as all of the people he regarded as his family. 

He just hoped they could spend their last couple of days having fun together and saying a proper goodbye before he left on Friday. 

Wednesday was spent packing his stuff. Somehow he’d succeeded in spreading his belongings over the entire house, so it took a while before he’d stuffed all of it in his worn trunk. Evening had arrived before he even noticed it, so he had no time to feel anxious about how Draco would behave today until he heard the front door open. 

“Potter! I’ve brought us noodles, come eat before they get cold!” he yelled before smacking the door closed behind him, dropping everything but the box of food in the entrance hall as he headed for the kitchen. 

_ Back to normal then,  _ Harry thought as he yelled out that he’d be there in a second, relief flooding his body. 

While it still felt a bit stifled, they indeed had a nice meal, and a comfortable evening listening to an audio drama on the wireless before they both headed to bed, Draco telling him not to wait up the next evening as he had an end of the year function at Mahoutokoro. 

It felt weird to eat alone on Thursday, and while he tried to stay awake, he must’ve fallen asleep before Draco came home, as he woke up on Friday morning to the sound of the shower running.

Draco looked rough, as if he’d had a wild party and a hangover to pay for it, when he finally emerged from the bathroom, already in his work robes and only stopping in the kitchen to grab a granola bar.

“I’m leaving at two,” Harry piped up, causing Draco to turn around with a whirl of his robes, looking like he didn’t expect his roommate to be up so early.

“Okay. Be safe. Hope you have a good trip,” Draco nodded, a strained smile etched on his face. “I uh, I have to get to work, I left a potion on the heat yesterday and well… can’t leave it there for too long or all my work will have been for nothing.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah sure.” Harry deflated. Draco usually took Friday afternoon off of work and he’d hoped that he would do so today so they could have a proper goodbye before he went back to England. “Let me know if you’re ever in London,” he smiled forcedly, knowing well enough that Draco wouldn’t visit England any time soon if he could help it. 

“Sure, will do. It was… nice. Having you around, I mean. You’re more fun than you look.”

Harry snorted, relieved by the pure Draco-ness of the remark. 

“I wouldn’t have believed it had anyone told me you were  _ any fun _ before this,” he answered fondly. He hesitated a bit, thought about hugging but finally went for a handshake. 

Draco had a mischievous look in his eyes when he said “Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. I think I might need some help sorting out which wizarding families are worth knowing and which ones aren’t.”

Harry laughed out loud, and Draco joined in with a chuckle, their shared joy filling the kitchen with a warm and pleasant atmosphere.

“Potter, Harry Potter. I might be able to help.”

Draco let go of Harry’s hand and put his in the pocket of his robes. “Goodbye, Harry.” He sent another awkward wave before heading out the door, off to the apparition point around the corner.

Even after all these months, most of Draco Malfoy still remained a mystery to Harry. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, b*tches!
> 
> I know I've been one of those annoying people who promise to update regularly, only to abandon their fic and leave you hanging... I'm terribly sorry! Life happened, but I've found myself back, as well as some time to write, so I really /do/ hope to post this more regularly from now on.  
> I've got a big chunk written up front, and as it's going now, I think I'll be able to keep to weekly or two-weekly updates. You've got my permission to bug me when I don't update for ages.  
> Also, I've changed quite a lot of things (mostly added stuff) in the previous chapters, so I'd recommend reading them again! 
> 
> Enjoy the ride!
> 
> TW: unplanned pregnancy, miscarriage. You can perfectly avoid reading about it if you want to, without missing too much of the story. It starts under the header "one month later" up until the next scene change, marked with ***  
> If you've got questions, just come and talk to me!

**August 30th**

“Ginnyyyyyyyy, have you seen my wand?” Harry yelled, his voice resounding through the hallway of 12, Grimmauld place.

“No, but it’s probably in your hand, Harry!” she yelled back, stomping up the stairs to try and keep some sense of order in his packing flurry. “And if not, maybe try and accio it, you’re a wizard, idiot,” she added fondly as she arrived in their bedroom, handing him the wand she’d come across on the first floor landing.

“Thanks, and sorry,” Harry replied, smiling warily as he put the wand back in his pocket where it belonged. 

“Why are you so nervous anyway? You  _ know  _ Hogwarts like your back pocket, you know everyone teaching there. And you’re coming home every weekend, so even  _ if _ you forget something, you can easily pick it up when you come home on Friday.”

Harry sighed as he flopped down on their bed. 

“I don’t know, I just… I’m worried that I won’t know what to do, or what to tell them, or that they’ll only want to question me about Voldemort and the war, or that they’ll think I only got the job because I’m the  _ boy who lived _ ,” he answered, his mouth pulling down when he recited the Prophet’s favourite title for him. 

“Harry… Beside the fact that you’ll no doubt be the best defence teacher Hogwarts has had for the last 10 years, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Ginny sat down next to him, gently pulling the strands that had escaped his curly ponytail. “Hogwarts is your second home. I’m quite sure McGonagall will tell everyone not to bother you with questions about the war, and even if she doesn’t, you handled the Prophet over the last couple of years, surely you can handle a couple of Hogwarts students.”

Harry smiled at her. “Even Draco said I’ll be a better teacher than Quirrell and Lockhart,” he remembered fondly.

“And everyone knows a Malfoy isn’t very generous with compliments, so he must’ve meant it,” Ginny smiled back. 

Bringing up Draco usually turned their conversations a bit awkward, so Harry had quickly learned not to mention him too often. Harry realised it was difficult for his London-friends to see that Draco had changed, as the others hadn’t gotten to know him like he had. They only remembered him from the trials, or even worse, school and the war. He knew that neither Ron, Hermione or Ginny understood how he had become friends with Draco over his stay in Japan, especially since Harry had hardly even mentioned him or their friendship in his letters.

“I’m glad we had the summer together,” Harry told her seriously, turning a bit to face her properly. “It was fun, having no jobs to return to every week, spending time together and with our family and friends.”

Ginny grinned. “Me too.” 

As soon as Harry had returned from Tokyo, and Ginny’s quidditch season had ended, they had moved back into the house at Grimmauld place together, making themselves at home. Even if their letters had been sparse, as soon as they saw each other again, they fell into each other and it felt as if they’d never been apart. 

“Now, you’ve got about two more hours before you have to leave, how about we make good use of that before the coach’s “no sex before a game”-rule kicks in again?”

If Harry looked a bit disheveled when he arrived at Hogwarts, neither Hermione (who of course arrived early) or professor McGonagall commented on it.

**A month later**

“Morning, you’re up early for a match-free Saturday,” Harry remarked, kissing the top of Ginny’s head and accepting the coffee Kreacher handed him before taking his seat at the table. Ever since Ginny had moved in, Grimmauld place had become a bit more homely, at least in the kitchen, the living room and their bedroom. Even Sirius’ mum didn’t screech as much as she used to. Harry frowned as he saw Ginny’s concerned look. “You okay love?”

“Harry, I’m… I’m late.” A tiny smile crossed her lips as she registered Harry’s confusion. “I mean my period’s late.”

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, coffee sloshing over the rim of his cup from the sudden halt in his movement. “What?”

“My period is late,” Ginny explained miserably. “By about three weeks now. I mean, I didn’t think anything of it at first, because my body sometimes acts up a bit when I go back to training every day, but after two weeks I started to worry, and then when they still hadn’t come this week, I went to buy a test and…” she held up a white stick with two thin blue lines on it. 

“You’re pregnant,” Harry breathed. 

“Yeah,” Ginny sighed. 

“Wow, okay. What… How are we feeling about this?” Harry asked, putting his coffee down as he spilled some on his thigh. He felt as if his own feelings were running around his head and body at a million miles an hour, unable to make out which was most obvious at this time.

“I- I’m not sure. I mean, of course I want kids, always have and probably always will, but… I’ve just started my Quidditch career, you’re at Hogwarts… I don’t know if this is a good time.” Ginny looked at her lap where she was wringing her hands together. 

“Yeah… yeah I get that. But… what does this mean? What is it that you want right now? Are you… Gin, does  that  mean you want an abortion?”

“No!” Ginny shouted, only to follow it up by a hesitant “I don’t know, maybe?”

Harry nodded understandingly. “Okay. So we’re considering an abortion as an option. Okay. Uhm. Maybe we should see a healer first, yeah?” he reasoned.

“I’ve booked us an appointment at St. Mungo’s this afternoon,” Ginny supplied. “There wasn’t an appointment left when I called them but when I mentioned my name, suddenly they could fit us in,” Ginny remarked as she rolled her eyes. 

Their fame hadn’t gone down, and usually they resented it and would never take advantage of it, but sometimes it  _ was _ useful. 

The rest of the morning went on in silence, Harry pulling out his hair band several times to redo his ponytail in the nervous habit he’d picked up since Japan, Ginny polishing her broom like  _ she _ tended to do when she was nervous. 

“Miss Weasley? Ginny Weasley?” A tall brown haired man called Ginny’s name out into the waiting room, even though they were the last ones there. He smiled at them as they stood up and approached the room he was standing in. “Good afternoon, I’m healer McKendrick, please come inside.”

He instructed her to lie down on the bed at the side of the room, preparing a muggle device Ginny had heard St Mungo’s had adopted a few years ago. “So, I see from the history that’s been taken by the mediwitch that you’re over three weeks late and you’ve had a positive pregnancy test.” Both Ginny and Harry nodded, nervously swallowing the lump in their throats. “Okay, this is an ultrasound machine, this will tell us if there is indeed a baby and if it’s healthy, though it is of course still early in the pregnancy.”

He entered a few numbers and then turned on the screen, both Harry and Ginny squinting at the black and grey image on the screen until he enlarged a white blob in the center. 

“This is your baby. I think you might be further along than we originally thought, because... “ he fiddled with the buttons some more and then suddenly a strong, quick heartbeat filled the room. “... we’ve got a strong and healthy heart beating away right here. I’m guessing about 8 weeks along.”

Harry’s eyes were glued to the screen. Of course, Ginny was right. A baby didn’t exactly fit into their current lives, but… They  _ made _ this. A tiny shrimp with a beating heart was growing inside of his girlfriend’s womb and… suddenly an abortion seemed out of the question. He knew he had to stay rational, getting emotional about it wasn’t helping them. Yet he couldn’t help feeling already attached to the white blob on the screen. Their blob. Their baby. 

When they got home, he could tell Ginny was torn as well. They didn’t talk much about it, only agreeing not to tell anyone for now, not until they’d decided what to do. The only one who knew was Luna, having been called in a panicked flurry when Ginny realised how late her period really was, but they were absolutely sure she wouldn’t spill their secret.

Over the next couple of days, Ginny dutifully started taking the prenatal vitamins healer McKendrick had prescribed, even if Harry caught her looking miserable while her hand rested on her stomach. On top of the emotional load, she felt nauseous most of the day. The healer had given them both five days of sick leave after they’d explained they weren’t sure how to proceed but Harry wasn’t sure if being home together didn’t make it worse than it already was. Instead of being there to support each other, it seemed like they both avoided the other, keeping to themselves to deal with this on their own. They only met at the kitchen table for meals and to Harry, it felt as if they were both on opposite sides of an endless abyss. 

On Friday morning they had another silent breakfast before their scheduled check up at St Mungo’s. They didn’t have a lot of time left for their decision so the healer had wanted to see them again within a week’s time. 

“What are you thinking about?” Harry offered, his question a faint echo of the game they’d often played after the war: challenging each other to stop thinking about the bad and come up with the silliest things they could come up with. 

Ginny smiled, but it was a weak one and Harry felt tears burning behind his eyes as she swallowed thickly. “About how I don’t know what to do. I love you, and it’s… it’s magical that we’ve done this, made this, but I don’t know if I can handle having a baby. Not now.”

“You want an abortion.” It wasn’t even a question, not really. Because even if Ginny really believed that she wasn’t sure, Harry had seen her misery. He couldn’t put her through this, he wouldn’t. Even if it was their child, she would have to be the one carrying it, sacrificing the most for it. 

Ginny started crying, small sobs filtering through the music coming from the wireless. She nodded, hiding her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

He wanted to tell her it was okay, he really did, but he couldn’t. Not when he felt his heart breaking into a million pieces at the same time. So he settled for “I understand.” Because he did.

“Miss Ginny Weasley?”

They were first today, the hospital still coming to life and the waiting room empty but for a mediwitch preparing her files and the cleaning wizard performing spells in a flurry. Healer McKendrick had been kind enough to schedule their appointment early in the morning to avoid gossip and tabloid nonsense being published, and it somehow felt a bit comforting to see him again.

“Have you reached a decision?” he asked kindly once he’d pushed the door closed behind them.

Ginny nodded, still sniffling as they both had been the entire morning. “We want an abortion.”

The man smiled kindly and nodded. “Please lie down for me, miss. We’ll have to do another ultrasound to determine the best way to do this.”

Harry kept his gaze trained on the monitor while Ginny undressed and put her feet in the stirrups, lying back for the examination. He wasn’t sure he could look at her without bursting into tears.

The black and white screen blurred when healer McKendrick started, tears clouding his vision and a buzz filling his ears.

“I’m so sorry,” the healer’s grave voice finally cut through the haze. “I’ve looked thoroughly, but I can’t find a heartbeat.”

“I’m sorry?” Ginny asked, looking as shocked as Harry felt.

“Your baby has already passed away, miss. This happens, it was still early in the pregnancy, and although we know the chances are a lot lower once we’ve seen a heartbeat, they’re not zero. You’ve had a miscarriage.”

It struck Harry, that even though they’d told him they didn’t want the baby he still felt sorry for them. 

He didn’t register the rest of the healer’s explanation of what to expect next. He just felt numb. It was a bit of a relief that they wouldn’t have to make the decision themselves, but he still felt like he’d just lost a child. 

After the weekend, he still felt empty, but he still went back to Hogwarts to do his job. It made it easier, somehow, to dedicate himself to something he loved. Ginny seemed to have less troubles. Harry had seen her cry a bit on Friday, and then on Saturday when Luna had been over and Ginny had told her the news. But on Sunday, she had acted as she always did when they visited the Weasley’s at the Burrow. The sadness had gone, and he thought he spotted some kind of relief in her eyes as she watched Teddy and Victoire play on the ground. And maybe somehow, seeing that hurt Harry more than the news itself.

*******

“Harry, are you coming?” 

Ginny found him behind his desk in the study, staring through the window instead of working on the DADA-lessons he was supposed to teach once the holidays were over. He looked up and nodded, slamming his books closed before grabbing this year’s Weasley-Christmas sweater from their bedroom and flooing over to The Burrow for the annual Christmas get together. 

At least he’d have enough of a distraction there. He had hoped that things would get better again between him and Ginny, but unfortunately the miscarriage had caused a rift between them that they seemingly couldn’t mend. 

He’d started to avoid coming home over the weekends if he didn’t absolutely have to. Ginny was always playing anyway, so it wasn’t like she missed him. 

Now that it was Christmas though, he had little choice but to come home, and he had to admit it was nice to go out into Diagon Alley and run into his former school mates, or fellow auror trainees who were now patrolling the busy streets. It took his mind off the lingering sadness that always seemed to return whenever he set foot into their house at Grimmauld place. Without the distraction Hogwarts  _ always _ offered, it seemed larger and harder to bear. His need to keep busy had kept him out of the house and away from Ginny most of the time. They usually ran into each other in the kitchen in the morning, and then they saw each other again over dinner where they talked about their days for a couple of minutes before falling back into silence. 

Harry didn’t think they could still be considered lovers, hardly even friends. Maybe it was the last part he missed the most.

He wanted to fix it more than anything, but he didn’t even know how to bring it up to Ginny, let alone fix things between them. 

She used to be his best friend, the one he could always talk to, but now there was only sadness when he looked at her. The fact that nobody but Luna knew about what happened, didn’t make it any easier. 

He still felt numb, nothing but sadness and grief penetrating the thick harness he’d built around himself. Even if Ginny was trying, he wouldn’t notice, too busy trying to survive. 

The Burrow was filled to the brim with people and Christmas decorations. Molly had always gone overboard at Christmas, but ever since Arthur found out about the Muggle Appliances store on Diagon, their Christmas decoration had gone slightly mad. There were christmas trees in every free nook and corner, decorated with both Muggle stuff and the magical decorations that had been in the family for generations. After greeting everyone and the usual small talk, Harry found himself a spot near George and Lee, happy to talk about the joke shop and watching the children run around the room. It had only been a couple of months since George had announced that he was together with Lee, but, as the Weasley family did well, Lee was immediately accepted as yet another one of their sons or brothers, and it seemed as if it hadn’t ever been different.

Watching the kids’ antics, he suspected there would be less trees next year, as Molly had already had to put out fires in each one at least once. Teddy’s accidental magic was quite powerful, it appeared. Not unexpected, with Lupin and Tonks as his parents. Harry smiled as he watched him run after Victoire, meandering chairs and tables without seeing any danger. He caught Ginny look at him from across the room and suddenly he couldn’t stop his eyes from tearing up. They could’ve had news to share today, and one of those little ones running around in a couple of years. Luckily, Teddy was there to distract him, crawling onto his lap and demanding he told him the story about his mum and dad again. 

  
  


***

**March 2001**

“I don’t know, Hermione. I don’t know if we can mend the pieces.” Ginny sighed. 

Harry stood still on top of the stairs, his arrival apparently unnoticed by the two women in the kitchen. 

“I miss him, of course I do. I miss us. But right now, I feel like there’s no us anymore.”

Hermione said something Harry couldn’t understand, followed by soft sniffles he recognised as Ginny’s.

“He hardly ever comes home over the weekends, as do I. And if I’m home, I’m almost relieved when he’s not. He always looks at me with those sad eyes, and… I just can’t stand it anymore.” A sharp hiccup disturbed her sentences. “I know he doesn’t mean to, but it feels like he’s blaming me for… you know.”

“He’s still grieving, I think,” he heard Hermione offer.

He couldn’t stand to listen any longer, didn’t want to hear whatever conclusion Ginny would come to. He turned around, as quietly as he could, and disappeared back into the sitting room’s floo before either woman noticed his presence.


	6. Chapter 6

**The end of August, 2001**

“Harry, hi!” Before he even realised it, Harry was pulled into a hug by Isabella. She smelled like grass and sun and salt, as if she’d only just returned from her holiday before coming back to Hogwarts. Which probably was the case, now that he thought about it. 

“You look as pale as you do in winter, it’s as if you haven’t even left the castle,” she gushed, pulling him along to her rooms for tea and catching him up on the  _ absolutely gorgeous _ wizard she’d met in Italy. 

Harry smiled at her. Isabella was still as easy to talk to and hang out with as she had been on his first day at Hogwarts. She’d been a welcome relief from Hermione’s doting, especially when she was joined by Ron over the weekends and they teamed up to ‘make him feel better’. Isabella knew about his break up, of course, but never pried, never pushed if he didn’t want to talk about it. She was a great friend.

“So, Harry, how about your summer? Don’t tell me I was right about you not leaving the castle all summer?!”

Harry smiled wryly. “I’ve been home as well. Just, you know, working a bit and doing some research. Didn’t feel like going on holiday.” 

“Oh bub, you should’ve told me, you could’ve tagged along to Italy,” she gushed, apparently appalled at the idea of someone not feeling up for a holiday.

“Nah, wouldn’t want to ruin your chances with the Italian wizards,” he winked, happy to bring the conversation back to a lighter theme.

“We’d just tell everyone you’re my gay best friend,” Isabella joked, and… Harry laughed awkwardly as her remark struck a strange note inside of him.

He’d loved Ginny, ofcourse, and he’d always found her attractive, but just… lately he noticed how he appreciated the looks of male quidditch players just as much as in the female players. Sometimes his eyes lingered on men he saw walking by when he went out for a drink in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. 

He still remembered Hermione’s educational sessions -mostly aimed at Ron but he was still there- when George had broken up with Angelina and introduced Lee as his boyfriend. Therefore he was well aware that bisexuality was a thing, it just had never occurred to him that it was a thing  _ for him _ . It made sense to only realise it now, as he’d been preoccupied with saving the world when he was younger, and then after that, it had always been Ginny. 

He shook off his realisation, classifying it for later exploration while he continued listening to Isabella’s chatter about her holiday. Her family had an estate in Italy and her dream had always been to go into potions research at the university of Naples closeby. So far, she didn’t have any luck with that though, so her summer had mostly been spent relaxing under the Italian sun.

Harry found he was looking forward to his students arriving. The summer had been long, and if he was honest, pretty lonely. Hermione and Ron were busy moving into their new house, and while he went over to help some days, on others he was glad he could avoid them. Ever since Ginny had broken up with him, they seemed to walk on eggshells around him, and he was getting tired of it. He had mostly stayed away from the Burrow as well, or at least on Sunday evenings, not wanting to intrude on their family dinners, even if Molly had floo-called him repeatedly to assure him he would always be part of their family, no matter what. Ginny would be there, and he just wasn’t ready to face her. 

He had heard she was doing well though, and he was glad for her. It wasn’t because he was still wallowing, that he wished the same thing for her. 

  
  


**January 2002**

“To Tokyo, please. Just me and two trunks.” Harry surprised himself a little bit when he ordered his portkey ticket at the desk. He’d actually planned to ask for the soonest available portkey, just needing to get out of London, away from all the pitying looks from his friends, the Weasley-family and even his colleagues. Tokyo wasn’t exactly a bad choice  though. He  shrugged, remembering his first time in the city, a little under two years ago already, as the last extended period of time he’d been truly happy. 

“Well  shit,” he muttered, suddenly realising that two years is a rather long time to feel unhappy. 

The witch sitting behind the desk eyed him warily as she tapped the screen in front of her with her wand a couple of times to make the machine behind her spit out a ticket and two slips of parchment to stick on his trunks. “Anything else,  Mr. Potter?” Her tone was polite but the look in her eyes told him she’d read every single article Skeeter’s written about him over the last couple of years. 

His smile felt a bit strained, but he figured he could get away with that as it was only 5 in the morning. “That’ll be all, thank you.”

  
  


Harry looked around at the streets surrounding him. Not much had changed since he’d last been here, about a year and a half ago. Traffic was still crazy as ever, sidewalks were bustling with people and if he craned his neck, he could just make out the Leaky Cauldron’s sign swinging about in the wind. This time, as opposed to two years ago, he easily found his way to his hotel, though he still opted to walk instead of apparating there, wanting to revel in the city’s atmosphere. He’d missed it, he suddenly realised. He loved Hogwarts and that had caused him not to realise it before, but now that was back, it hit him in full force. Maybe coming back to Tokyo hadn’t been as much of a  subconscious decision as he’d thought earlier. 

The first days of his stay were spent sleeping off his jet lag, enjoying the luxury of his room now that he didn’t have to attend any training. He’d sent an owl to Akira to invite him for dinner over the weekend, but that still left him with two entire days without any obligations once he’d slept off the time difference. The atmosphere of the city invited him to go out and enjoy his freedom rather than hiding away from it as he’d done in London, so out he went.

He bundled up and cast a warming charm on himself before heading out in the light dusting of snow, ready to wander the streets of wizarding Tokyo. 

Most of the shops were still the same as they had been two years earlier, though after his first stay he’d learned enough to appreciate even the shadier ones. He recognised some of the shop owners, mostly of the smaller shops that were clearly run by one wizarding family for ages, but most of the wizards and witches manning the counters were just employees looking for a more steady employment. When he came across a joke shop, a narrow building squeezed in between a food store and a large apothecary, he grinned at himself and spent about an hour wandering the long and narrow aisles, exploring everything they had in order to report to George in his next letter. 

Harry was grateful for the friendship George had offered him over the past couple of months.  He was Ginny’s brother, of course, but his support had been unwavering regardless. They didn’t have to talk about the things that were hurting them to understand each other, it appeared, and not sharing as much of a history with him than he  did with Hermione and Ron made it easier to just  _ be _ . 

Despite repeated warming charms, he couldn’t really get used to the cold after spending so long inside, which was why he found himself entering the Leaky Cauldron around noon. If their chef was still the same, there’d be a tasty and hot miso soup ready to serve behind the counter and Harry could almost taste it just from thinking about it. 

Sure enough, while the wizard behind the bar was new to him, the soup was there and it was delicious. He found himself a table near the fireplace, nestling himself in the cosy warmth it provided. There weren’t many patrons around, usually lunch hour on work days was rather quiet as most wizards preferred to eat on their job instead of going out for lunch. The wireless was on, but Harry didn’t recognise any of the Japanese pop songs coming through the speakers so he didn’t come much further than bobbing his head along to the beat while he ate. Once paid, he got too restless being alone at a table, so he headed out again, bundling up against the cold wind and casting the strongest warming charms he knew to protect him from the snow that had started falling again while he ate.

“Want a haircut, sir?” a tiny wizard asked him as he reached the corner of the large boulevard the Leaky was on. At first Harry shook his head in an automatism, but then his hand subconsciously reached up to fist the beanie that was currently covering the mess that was his hair. Maybe it was time for a change. He hated change, but this might as well be a good one.

“Yes, maybe I  _ do _ want a haircut,” he replied, smiling in response to the big grin the man gave him. He beckoned Harry to follow him into a small alleyway and then into a hairdressers salon that must’ve been magically enlarged. Inside there were at least seven witches and wizards working on their customer’s hair, their techniques varying from washing, head massages (which was pretty freaky to look at, invisible hands massaging someone’s head), dying in various colours and cutting and drying. Harry now realised it was the first time he saw a magical hairdresser at work, always having relied on Molly and later Ginny to cut his hair whenever necessary, and after that he’d let it grow out into the messy ponytail it was now.

The wizard took his coat, scarf and hat from him and offered a seat in front of a mirror while a shy girl brought him a cup of tea to enjoy while his hair was being cut. 

The instructions he gave were simple: no colouring, not too much work in the morning. The wizard grinned again and got to work, washing his hair first and casting a massage spell right after that before he started to cut. The cutting was done with enchanted scissors, but Harry could tell it was the wizard who had the skills to handle them. 

All in all, it took no longer than 45 minutes before he was staring at a new version of himself in the mirror. “Harry Potter 2.0,” he murmured to himself, “or maybe 3.0, considering the war probably made me into version 2.0.”

“Happy, sir?” the wizard asked, meanwhile cleaning up the mass of hair that had fallen to the ground around his chair.

“Very,” Harry confirmed, smiling as he paid, leaving a big tip. At least now his pony tail wasn’t as much of a mess, the curls being teased back in a meticulous manner so there weren’t as many springy bits escaping the hair tie. Along with his light stubble, he didn’t look half bad, if he said so himself. 

He’d been walking for about an hour before he realised where he was heading. He hadn’t meant to come here, maybe it was muscle memory. As he held up his hand to push open the gate, he hesitated. Why did he come here? Would he even be welcome?

He hadn’t heard from Draco since he had left Tokyo two years ago. Not a letter, not a call. Then again, he hadn’t written either, so could he really blame Draco? It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to write, because he had. He couldn’t count the times he’d sat at his desk wanting to write to Draco but everything sounded stupid. Time went on and then even the idea of writing got ridiculous in his head because it had been such a long time. 

Harry shook his head, stuffing his hand back into his pocket. Draco probably wouldn’t even be home. He’d be at work, and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t want to see Harry. Might have forgotten about their time together altogether. 

He retreated to the gate, back onto the streets and wandered back to his hotel, keeping away from Draco’s neighbourhood on his walks over the next weeks.

_ Dear Ginny, _

_ It’s been ages since I’ve written to you, or talked in any way, really. I’m sorry.  _

_ For not writing, for blaming you for our break up, for the break up itself.  _

_ I wish things could have gone differently.  _

_ Maybe the turnout would have been the same, maybe we weren’t meant to be, but I wish it could have been less of a turmoil on the road to that decision. _

_ I don’t blame you for leaving. Not anymore. I understand you had to make that decision, and if anything, I am now grateful for it. _

_ I’m back in Tokyo, as you may have heard. I had to get away from everything, and this place… it still holds happiness for me.  _

_ Come visit me, one day? I’ve heard you’ve been travelling over the summer, so it would be a good opportunity to broaden your horizons.  _

_ I hope we can go back to being friends, some day soon. _

_ Love, _

_ Harry _

It was a cold and dreary Monday evening when Harry noticed it for the first time. He was sitting at the bar at the Leaky, enjoying a bowl of steaming miso after one of his afternoons out in the city. He’d found an amateur quidditch club earlier in the week and was considering joining them, so he’d thought it a nice occupation for his day to look at brooms. 

An icy wind hit his back as the door opened, the atmosphere cozy and warm, murmurs from the patrons spread across the café filling the air along with the music from the wireless. He looked up and turned to see who was taking so long, right on time to see a blond head of hair disappear again. He frowned, certain he’d imagined it and turned back to his soup, shaking his head to get rid of the disturbing thought.

It happened two more times before his suspicions were  proven correct. He was sitting in the back of the café, nursing a glass of firewhiskey while he wrote a letter to Hermione when a rowdy group entered, their laughter loud and uninhibited, voices unapologetic as they all ordered firewhiskey from the bartender. One of them waited at the bar for their drinks while the others approached the corner where Harry sat, shoving tables together to create one large enough to accommodate the entire group. The man with the blond hair was somewhere in the middle, talking enthusiastically to a young witch with red streaks in her black hair. Now there was no doubt left that it had been Draco the other times as well. His hair was shorter now, cut into an uncharacteristically disheveled look, though it was probably meticulously styled, knowing him. Harry froze, pulled his lower lip between his teeth as he came closer to his table and waited for the inevitable moment when Draco would notice him. 

It took only three more steps before he looked Harry’s way, both his mouth and his feet momentarily halting their actions as they locked eyes. 

Harry wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen, but it surely hadn’t been this. Draco’s eyes pierced his own for a split second, only to move away without as much as acknowledging him. He continued his conversation as if nothing had happened, ostentatiously choosing a seat facing away from Harry as they sat down. 

Harry finished his drink and left, gut wrenching and the firewhiskey burning in his stomach. 


	7. Chapter 7

It was snowing again on the Saturday morning he was waiting for Ginny to arrive at Shibuya station. There was an icy wind that cut through all of his warming charms and made him want to bury himself in more scarves than he owned, let alone brought to Japan with him. Three more minutes, he told himself as he cast a quick tempus and jumped up and down to chase the cold from his feet. 

“Harry!” he heard, and before he could turn around and face the one calling his name, he was engulfed in warm arms, fiery red hair in his face as his ex-girlfriend hugged him. “It’s so good to see you,” she breathed, squeezing him a little tighter before letting go entirely. 

The distance between them had done them well. After the break up, there had been silence. Harry had heard about Ginny from her family, and he was quite sure it had been the same the other way around, but they had never spoken or seen each other again. Yet after that first letter he’d sent her when he had just arrived in Tokyo, there had been a back and forth of long and heartfelt letters, as well as ones filled with funny stories they wanted to share with one another. 

Harry had suggested multiple times that Ginny really needed to see Tokyo, and before they were well aware, her portkey was booked for her weekend off after winter competition ended. 

“Same,” he grinned. “I’m glad I’ve got my best friend back.”

He’d expected it to hurt, at least a little bit, but it didn’t. He knew now that it was for the best that him and Ginny weren’t together anymore, and the miscarriage had only brought to the surface what had been simmering beneath it for a long time. He still grieved their baby, because he would’ve liked to have a child, and he knew he and Ginny would’ve been good parents to it, but it was okay. 

As they made their way to Keio station, through the mural and into wizarding Tokyo, Ginny looked around her in amazement. “This is awesome, I can’t believe it took me so long to get here,” she exclaimed, looking at the strange mixture of skyscrapers and narrow traditional houses as they walked through the streets towards Harry’s hotel. 

Harry had offered to get Ginny her own room, but she’d called him an idiot and told him they’d slept in the same bed for long enough to do it again for a couple of nights. Her boyfriend would understand. She hadn’t elaborated further on the topic, which made Harry more than a little curious. 

“So… did your boyfriend understand that you were going to sleep in one bed with the Boy Who Lived for the weekend?” he asked teasingly, a crooked smile pulling on his lips.

Ginny threw her weekender on the couch as she rolled her eyes at him, the slight blush rising on her cheeks betraying her attitude. 

“Of course he did,” she offered, slyly not giving any more information until he asked for it.

“Oh come on!” Harry gave in quickly. He was nothing if not a gossip, and he’d missed gossiping with Ginny. “Tell me everything over tea!” He moved to the small table in the corner where a small teapot sat and started to prepare them both a cup of strong Japanese tea. Ginny was probably dead tired because of her jet lag, so she could use it. 

“Who is it? Do I know him? Does he treat you right or does he need your entire flock of angry brothers to teach him a lesson?” he asked, firing question after question at her as he handed her her cup. She had put her bag on the ground and nestled herself in a corner of the small couch, patting the cushions in invitation to sit on the other side. 

She slowly sipped the hot liquid before looking at him again, biting her bottom lip that was trying to tug up into a smile before answering. “You know him, quite well actually. It’s Oliver. Wood, I mean. He was hired for a training camp with our team last November and well… I didn’t recall him being so fit at school.”

“That’s probably because you were only 13 when he graduated Hogwarts,” he remarked teasingly. “Looks like you’ve got a thing for older men then.” It earned him a stinging hex, but it didn’t stop the laughter about it. 

“Yeah, that, and he was always Percy’s friend, which made him unattractive per definition,” she grinned. “But he’s fit, and sweet, and he definitely treats me right,” she offered. “What about you, ‘ve you found some company to enjoy here?”

Harry looked at his teacup as if it were one of Trelawny’s, contemplating what to tell her. “No, no company. I don’t mind that much, I’m okay with being on my own. Gives me time to think.”

“As long as your mind is in a good place…” Ginny offered, frowning at his sudden subduedness.

“It is, I think,” he nodded, smiling slightly before he swallowed and took a deep breath. “I- Ginny I think I’m bisexual.” he said, looking up from his cup just in time to put it away to catch her as she flung herself into his arms.

After hugging it out for several minutes, she pulled back and smiled as she looked him in the eyes. “You weren’t worried about telling me, were you?”

“Since I only just decided I would tell you, no, I wasn’t worried,” he smiled. 

“Good, because I don’t give a fuck. You’re still Harry and you’re my best friend and I love you, no matter what your sexuality is. Unless you’re suddenly Snape-sexual or something, I’m not sure I could live with that.”

Harry pulled a face. “Ewwww, Ginny for fuck’s sake! I’m quite sure I couldn’t live with myself in that case. But. Thanks. I suppose.”

The weekend flew by rather quickly. On Saturday evening, Ginny insisted that they went to a muggle gay bar to compare their taste in men. It was quickly obvious that they wouldn’t be any competition for each other, as Ginny always went for tall, muscled, dark-haired guys while Harry apparently had a thing for lanky and slender light haired types. 

They both got terribly drunk that night so it was already noon when they woke up, hungover and thirsty. It made Harry long for Draco’s horrible hangover potion, but he wasn’t sure if he would ever know if Draco had gotten it to taste a bit better. 

For some stupid reason, after that thought, Draco lingered in his mind for the entire day. And of course, Ginny _had_ to bring him up when they were having tea in a quaint tea shop he’d discovered on his first trip. Now that he thought about it, he realised it had been Draco who had shown it to him on one of their goalless walks around the city.

“Do you still meet up with Malfoy? Or has he left Tokyo?” she asked as she swallowed her mouthful of fruity tea and studied the intricate designs on her tea cup. “Merlin, mom would have a field day here, she’d love these cups,” she added, mumbling. 

Harry snorted, nodding as he let his gaze slide over the different designs on the porcelain on their table. “She would absolutely, I should bring her some when I come back home,” he grinned.

Ginny glared at him. “I know what you’re doing. Don’t try to avoid my question. What about Malfoy?”

Harry shrugged. “He avoids me like the plague. I’ve seen him a couple of times but he won’t even acknowledge me, let alone talk to me.”

“Why’s he angry?”

“Haven’t got a clue. If I were better at legilimency, I’d have a look inside that thick skull of his, but for now I’m left with guessing. And learning to live with the fact that our friendship was short-lived, apparently.”

Ginny hummed, studying him thoughtfully. “Harry - Was- Has there ever been anything _but_ friendship between you and him?”

Harry spluttered, his lukewarm tea going down his windpipe, making him cough like the idiot he was. “What? No! Of course not!” He picked up a napkin and started to dab at his emerald woolen sweater before Ginny rolled her eyes and picked up her wand to get rid of the damp stain. He took another sip as he glared at her over the rim of his teacup.

Ginny held up both her hands in apology and muttered “Alright, fine, I was just wondering if there was any kind of relation between your friendship with Malfoy and the realisation you like blokes as well. Sorry for asking!”

Harry groaned, running a hand over his face. “It’s fine, it’s fine. But no, there never was anything but friendship.” Not even his best friend had to know how he added “I think,” as an afterthought. “Besides, we were still together back then, are you accusing me of cheating on you now?” he teased, successfully steering the conversation away from the topic. 

***

Harry was drunk off his face, that was the only proper explanation for what happened the weekend after Ginny had visited. 

He had wanted to go out dancing, so he’d owled a couple of his friends from Heishi academy and let himself be introduced to Tokyo’s wizarding nightlife. Up until then, he hadn’t wandered much further than the Leaky and a karaoke bar he’d stumbled upon by accident. Akari, Aoi and Hana had taken him to a club, hidden in a traditional house’s basement. It was obviously magically enlarged to fit the hundreds of people dancing and drinking. The lights flashed blue, red and green and the basses pounded so hard that all thoughts were driven away from Harry’s mind. He loved it.

He danced until his feet hurt almost too much to stand on, drunk until he couldn’t think straight and enjoyed some harmless flirting with both witches and wizards who came into his range of vision.

His three friends had left him around 2am, claiming they wanted to spend their Sunday at least somewhat productive, but Harry hadn’t felt like leaving yet. The music was good, the drinks were even better and without a job to attend to, Sundays were just as good -or bad- as any other day. 

He was leaning against a stool at the bar, waiting until the barkeeper found the time to get him another beer when his eyes were drawn to the familiar head of blond hair. Draco’s grey eyes were lit up with amusement, his face open and happy as he threw his head back in laughter at what his friend told him. Harry watched as he leaned in closer to said friend’s ear, whispering something before he pulled back, winked and turned around. It wasn’t even a conscious decision, but Harry jumped up, pushing through the throng of clubbers as he followed Draco to what appeared to be the loo.

Outside the door, he hesitated. What should he do? Go inside? He and Draco had a kind of bad history with confrontations in the loo. Wait outside? Or just give up and learn to live with the fact that Draco didn’t want to have anything to do with him? 

He didn’t have time to make a decision, because before he reached one, Draco pulled open the door and walked right into him. 

“Shit, sorr- Potter? What the fuck are you doing here? Did McGonagall throw you out for discovering another hidden monster on the grounds of Hogwarts?” Draco’s face had changed in a split second, from friendly and apologetic to the bitterness Harry only remembered from school and that very first time he’d met him here in Tokyo. 

Harry stumbled when Draco shoved him aside but managed a reply before he had left completely. “Oh, wow, so you _do_ remember who I am then. I was worried you’d been hit with a memory curse or had a potions accident!”

“Fuck you Potter. What did you expect?” Draco spat, turning around and clenching his fists at his sides. “It’s been a year and a half since you’ve left, rather sudden. Which, fine!” he yelled. A slight blush was crawling it’s way up Draco’s cheeks, his eyes piercing Harry’s in fury. “I thought we were friends. I really made myself believe that. But once you left, back to your perfect little life with your perfect friends and your perfect girlfriend, you simply forgot about me. Not one letter, not one. I should’ve known, probably, and I stopped caring by now.” He huffed, shaking his head slightly. “Did you fucking expect me to throw you a party because you decided to show up now? You probably thought it was a great way to spend the Christmas holidays, huh? Showing Ginny around in Tokyo, maybe laugh a bit about how Malfoy is living here now instead of in London? Or are you on honeymoon? Excuse me for not reading the Prophet, I wouldn’t know if you got married.” He rolled his eyes once more before he turned around again, storming off to the bar.

Harry needed a moment to regain his wits and then shouted “I’m not married!” after him, feeling something crumble inside of him when all Draco offered was a crude gesture over his head along with “Not the fucking point, Potter!”

“A productive Sunday after all,” Harry muttered, “or so I hope.”

Rain was pouring down, ice and snow had seemingly disappeared overnight as spring had made an entrance. It wasn’t as cold as it had been earlier in the week, but being soaking wet wasn’t exactly what he had been hoping for either.

Either way, he pulled up the hood of his sweater, put up an umbrella-charm and quickly legged through the city. A man on a mission. His confrontation with Draco had burst a dam yesterday. He hadn’t gone back to the bar afterwards, just grabbed his coat and went back to his hotel where he lay staring at the ceiling until the sun came up again. In the morning, he’d sent an owl to Ginny, the letter containing no more than “You were right, X Harry,” and after breakfast he’d left.

He wasn’t sure Draco would be awake this early after his night out, but he went anyway. He could always wait outside until there was any sign of life.

As he walked into the garden, closing the fence behind him, he noticed the cherry trees had started to bloom, even if spring was only just approaching, and the scent filled the air surrounding him. Harry counted his steps from the gate to the front door. Seventeen. Each one on a blue step stone that stood out from the freshly mown grass. 

Once in front of the bright red door, he took a deep breath, swallowed all second thoughts and knocked three times, suddenly unsure if he wanted Draco to be at home, or not.

He could hear footsteps approaching the door, and a little later it swung open, revealing a disheveled looking Draco Malfoy, cup of coffee in hand.

“Listen, if this is about the weeds in the back of the garden again,” he started, taking a big sip of his hot beverage before he continued. “I promise I’ll have the gardener - Potter?! What the fuck? Wasn’t I clear enough yesterday?” He stepped back inside and started to close the door, his eyes flaming with anger and hurt. 

Harry reacted quickly, shoving his foot between the door before it could close fully.

“Draco, wait!”

“What do you want from me, Potter? I’m not interested in being your pity project, so please, go fuck yourself.” His baritone sounded rough, and broke slightly, almost imperceptibly, at the end of his sentence.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Get your foot out of my doorway, Potter,” Draco gritted out between clenched teeth. “I don’t… What?!”

“Draco Malfoy, I’m an idiot but I’m an idiot who’s in love with you,” Harry offered, a hopeful look in his eyes as they locked with Draco’s. He looked stunned, eyes wide and mouth moving without producing sound.

His confession hung in the air between them for what seemed to be several minutes until Draco broke their eye contact, kicked Harry’s foot back and threw the door closed. 


	8. Chapter 8

Harry wasn’t sure what to do next. It was quite obvious that he wasn’t exactly welcome here, but it also didn’t feel right to turn around and walk away after having said what he said. His hands were still shaking from it. Not because he wasn’t sure of it, no. He hadn’t ever been more certain of anything he’d ever said. But after such a long time of not acknowledging it, the realisation was overwhelming. 

He blew out a long, deep breath and found himself a spot on the lawn near the so-called broomshed. He aimed an isolation spell at the ground, renewed the umbrella charm and sat down cross-legged. He waited, unsure what exactly he was waiting for, and how long he would have to wait. 

The rain didn’t let up until it was dark. It didn’t look like Draco was going to change his mind any time soon, so finally Harry got up, spelled his shoes and clothes dry and went back to his hotel. 

The next day, he returned around the time he thought Draco would come home from work. He had guessed it right. He was sitting on the lawn, no rain this time, when Draco pushed open the gate. He looked at him for no longer than a second before walking right past him, into his house where he stayed until it went dark and Harry left once more.

It went like that for the rest of the week. Harry would arrive about fifteen minutes before Draco came home, only to be ignored for the entire evening before he went back to his hotel.

On Thursday, he found an owl hooting quietly on his nightstand, a letter from Ginny tied to its leg. It was only a tiny slip of paper, so it had to be short, making Harry frown as he untied and unrolled it.

_ HARRY POTTER WHAT DO YOU MEAN I WAS RIGHT???? _

_ WRITE ME BACK RIGHT THIS MOMENT AND TELL ME EVERYTHING _

He snorted at the big scrawled letters on the parchment and knew he was going to have to reply if he wanted to avoid more letters like that. Maybe Ginny would even go as far as send him a howler if he stayed mum for too long. He was tired and stiff from being outside for hours, so he decided a short letter would have to do.

_ Ginny, _

_ I remember you gloating more on the sparse occasions I had to admit you were right. Then again, when you are right, you definitely  _ are _ right and deserve the credit. I’m in love with him. I don’t know why it took me so long to realise it, but now I do, I can’t deny it any longer. I’ve told him, even, but so far without any result. I promise I’ll keep you posted. Say hi to Oliver from me. _

_ And keep your big mouth shut about all this, will you? _

_ Love, _

_ Harry _

  
  
  


Harry knew that Draco usually didn’t go to work on Saturdays, so just to be sure he didn’t miss him, he got up early, and despite it being another day of pouring rain, prepared for a long day of sitting on the grass. 

He had brought a book to kill time, and spelled a bubble around him to protect him from the rain as much as possible. He had just arrived on page 146, where the heroine found out that her love interest had fucked up for the umpteenth time when he heard a squeak to his left. The red front door opened, almost hesitantly, and a tired-looking Draco stood in the doorway.

“Merlin, you look like a lost puppy, Potter. Get inside.” Draco sighed, leaving the door open as he walked back to his living room.

Harry scrambled to stand up, burst his bubble and dried his shoes with a quick warming spell before hurrying into the house. He left his coat on the coatrack after spelling it dry too and followed behind to the living room. He looked around awkwardly, waiting for an invitation to sit down or stand and talk but it never came, so finally he cleared his throat. “You’ve got a new couch,” he remarked.

“Yes.” Draco walked away from Harry towards the corner where the couch stood.

Harry nodded, even if Draco couldn’t see. “Listen Draco, I - I know I’m putting this on you without warning, but.” He swallowed, trying to gather his wits as he fixed his gaze on the ceiling. “I know I’ve made mistakes, alright? I know I should’ve written to you, but I didn’t see any letters from you either.” 

He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. “And I know it has taken me almost two years and an ugly break up to realise who I am and what I feel for you. It doesn’t even matter if you feel the same, it doesn’t change a thing. But I needed to tell you. So. I’m here now.”

Draco sat down stiffly in the corner of the new, smaller couch, gaze firmly fixed on the wall in front of him. 

“And I finally figured out what you meant, that one night when you said that Pansy Parkinson wasn’t your type. I recognise that was extremely daft, even for me,” Harry added, almost offhandedly, a nervous chuckle escaping his mouth.

Draco snorted. “I had been wondering.” He stood up from the couch and turned, taking two steps until he was right in front of Harry. “What do you expect from me?”

Harry could tell that the proud way he held himself was mostly a shield of armour. He could see the underlying vulnerability, but he knew it would be unwise to point it out. He shrugged, letting his eyes wander over Draco’s face shortly.

“Nothing, not really,” Harry replied, willing his hands to stop shaking at his sides. “I mean- I would like it if we could be friends again, at least. And if you would maybe let yourself explore how you feel about me.”

Draco’s eyes bored into Harry’s, his face impassive so Harry had no idea what he was thinking or feeling.

“What are you hoping for?”

Harry choked on his own spit, feeling put on the spot by that question. He thought about it for a few seconds before he replied. “A chance.” At Draco’s questioning look he continued. “To- court you? Is that what you people call it?”

Draco let out another snort. “You want to  _ court _ me?”

“Well, yes, I believe I do,” Harry nodded, feeling his confidence grow now that Draco hadn’t rejected him right away.

Draco hummed and studied his face for a little while longer. Harry felt his resolve crumble further every second. 

“Okay.”

Even if he had a sliver of hope left, he hadn’t expected this. “What?”

“Okay. You can court me,” Draco repeated. “We will go out on dates together. We’ll have a lot to discuss, but if all you want is a chance, I’ll give you it.”

Harry couldn’t find his voice to give a proper reply, so he simply nodded his consent, hoping it also conveyed how grateful he was for this chance.

“Pick me up here on Friday, 7pm,” Draco told him before he turned and went into the kitchen, dismissing him without saying as much.

“See you on Friday,” Harry replied, grabbing his coat before heading outside. Even if was pouring again, he couldn’t care less. He was soaking wet by the time he reached the apparition point nearest to Draco’s house but there was a spring in his step that he couldn’t ignore. He felt more liberated than he had in a very long time.

  
  


Harry arrived at 6.55pm on Friday night, but waited until his alarm charm told him it was time. He knew Draco had a thing for punctuality and wasn’t planning to fuck up on their first date. He had absolutely no experience with courting, or even wooing someone, but he was determined not to fuck up. 

At exactly 7pm, he knocked on the red wood of Draco’s front door, hands sticky with nervous sweat.

It was as if Draco had been standing right behind the front door; Harry’s hand had hardly left the wood when it was pulled open, revealing his date. 

Harry hadn’t been sure if he should go for dress robes or a muggle suit, but apparently had made the right choice. Draco had foregone the dress robes himself, instead opting for a steel grey suit, paired with a dark red shirt and a meticulously tied grey tie. Harry noticed his hair was a little bit darker than it had been two years before, and unlike the last time Harry had seen him, it was styled perfectly into place. It made him want to reach up to his own bun, well aware that there were probably already a lot of stray hairs that had escaped the hair tie. 

“Hello, Draco,” he forced himself to say once he had recovered from Draco’s extremely attractive appearance.

“Good evening, Harry,” Draco replied, a smug smile tugging at his lips. He obviously knew very well what effect his looks could have. 

“I- uh. I’ve brought you something.” Harry had done his research in the last couple of days, and while most sources said he should bring  _ something _ as a gift for a first date, he also found that flowers were apparently considered old fashioned. 

“An origami dragon,” Draco appeared pleasantly surprised, picking up the small paper figurine from Harry’s outstretched palm and reaching for his wand. He tapped the red paper and made the thing flap its wings a few times before it flew inside. “Thank you.”

“I’ve made reservations for dinner, do you mind side-along-apparition?” Harry asked, waiting while Draco took a black woolen coat from the rack that he hadn’t seen before. 

“No, that’s alright,” Draco answered, pulling the door closed behind him and falling into step with Harry as they walked to the apparition point.

The restaurant Harry had chosen was a small, authentic Japanese place, with only five or six low tables, each set on their own small carpet. Once inside, the hostess took them to their table in the back of the room and explained that their food would arrive shortly. 

Luckily, it was a very short wait, because they still hadn’t said much to each other since arriving, both just taking in their surroundings and briefly commenting on the restaurant’s design.

A young woman walked up to their table, put down a large plate filled with sushi and sashimi and briefly explained in broken English what she was serving them.

“Arigato gozaimasu,” Draco thanked her, bowing his head to emphasize his words. 

“You speak Japanese?” Harry asked, surprised.

Draco huffed out a laugh. “I’ve lived here for almost four years now, how terrible would I be if I still couldn’t say ‘thank you’ in Japanese by now,” he replied, picking up a sushi roll after rubbing his chopsticks together. “Why did you come back?”

Right, straight to the point then, Harry thought, taking a bite from a piece of salmon sashimi before answering. “I needed to get away. Was unhappy, even at Hogwarts, so I asked for the remainder of the year off, and left.”

“Why here?” Draco’s eyes never left his face, even while he picked up different pieces of food to taste.

Harry shrugged. “Didn’t really decide it up front. Just took my trunks and ordered a ticket from the portkey station. But I’m glad to be here. I always liked Tokyo and being here now gave me some of the peace I’ve been looking for. It had been a long time since I’d been happy, to be honest.”

“Because of the break-up?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, but yes, basically.”

Draco hummed, apparently happy enough with that explanation.

For the rest of their meal, conversation drifted to more casual topics like Draco’s work, Harry’s experience with teaching at Hogwarts, and quidditch.

Harry felt himself relax more and more while his stomach got fuller and his head lighter from the sake.

He made sure not to drink too much though, wanting to remain clearheaded enough to get them both home in one piece, and able to enjoy his evening with Draco.

“I  _ really _ had a great time,” Harry told him. They’d apparated back to Draco’s neighbourhood and walked the short distance back to his house side by side, elbows bumping together every once in a while. They were currently standing in the garden, only the small light next to the door illuminating the night around them.

“I enjoyed myself,” Draco offered, his face relaxed even if he did his best to act impassive. 

Harry grinned brightly. “Does that mean we can do this again then?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Meet me at the Leaky tomorrow, 9pm. Think they’ve got live entertainment this week.”

“Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Malfoy,” Harry teased, tipping an imaginary hat at Draco. “I’ll be happy to see you there. Have a good night.”

“Good night, Potter.”

Harry stood there, waiting until Draco was inside and had shut the door behind himself before turning back towards the street. He realised it was still a long way to go, but this felt good.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I was distracted by a fest-piece that demanded my attention, but I'm back on track now!

Their date at the Leaky Cauldron didn’t leave much room for talking. As Draco had said the previous night, there was live entertainment and it was loud enough that they could hardly understand what they were saying. It was still a good night out though. The music was good, the firewhiskey even better, and the company excellent, if one asked Harry. 

Draco said he was busy the rest of the week, but allowed Harry to ask him out on Friday. 

“Do you still take Friday afternoons off of work?” Harry asked, grinning happily when Draco confirmed.

He decided to pick Draco up from work that day, and took him to Tokyo’s largest indoor quidditch facility. It was a giant sports center from the outside, yet inside it was even bigger. It was magically enlarged to house five quidditch pitches, the ceilings enchanted to be able to create any type of weather on request. Professional teams used it for their training, but on Fridays and Sundays it was open to the public. Harry had managed to get them a pitch and a set of balls, and while they of course weren’t a full team, they could just as well only use the snitch and see who the best seeker was. 

They spent three hours on the pitch, and Harry loved every second of it. He and Draco chased each other on their brooms, looking for five different snitches (apparently, they had a special seeker program) in varying weather conditions. 

Draco fell down on the bench in the locker room afterwards, sweaty but elated. Harry didn’t think he had heard him laugh so often and so uninhibited ever before. It distracted him every time, which had gotten Draco the upper hand in their game but he didn’t mind the slightest bit. 

“I can’t believe I never knew this existed,” Draco sighed as he unlaced his boots. He leaned his head against the wall, chest still heaving from exertion. “We definitely have to come back another time, it was fantastic.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Harry smiled, “I’m going to take a quick shower before I change, I’m quite sure I smell terrible now.”

Draco agreed to do the same, and not ten minutes later, both men stood in front of the mirror to fix their hair. Or in Harry’s case, try to persuade the damp curls to stay in the bun he was trying to make while he watched Draco’s coiffing skills with the slightest bit of jealousy. 

“Wanna grab a bite at the Leaky?” Harry asked, not ready yet to call it a night.

Draco looked at him through the mirror for a few seconds before he shook his head. 

Harry felt his heart sink in disappointment and tried to plaster on an easy smile to tell Draco it was fine.

“How about I make us something at my house? It seems like I’ve missed an awful lot of gossip since cancelling my subscription on the Prophet, it’s about time someone catches me up.”

Harry’s forced smile turned into a bright grin in no-time. “Oh you’ve asked the right guy, Draco Malfoy, I love gossip.”

Draco chuckled as he shook his head exasperatedly. “Come on then, Potter, let me take you home.”

While Draco whipped them up something easy, Harry leaned against the counter, recounting everything he could think of that Draco probably wouldn’t know. He continued while they ate and later when Draco had charmed his sponge and brush to do the dishes. Draco leaned against the counter to supervise while Harry sat on a kitchen chair, both enjoying a glass of red elven wine while they talked. He told him about Dean and Seamus who got married, as well as Dean’s first art exhibition that had been a big hit in wizarding London, about Hermione’s job and the house she’d bought together with Ron, about Luna who was travelling the world like the carefree soul she was, and about Neville and the mystery girlfriend he never brought along even though he always blushed heavily whenever anyone asked about her. 

Once the towel had done its job and returned to the hook to the side of the cupboard, Harry cleared his throat.

“I should, uhm, probably get going,” he said, voice a bit hoarse after an afternoon of screaming on the pitch and an evening of gossiping. He finished the last bit of wine in his glass before he got up, awkwardly standing in front of Draco before he went to grab his coat. “See you at the Leaky tomorrow?”

Draco smiled, visibly loosened up by the warm food, the tasty wine and the exercise of the afternoon. “I’d be happy to.”

“Good night, Draco.”

“Night, Harry.”

Harry grabbed his coat from the hanger in the hallway, nodded at Draco who had followed after him to let him out, and before he could change his mind, pressed a quick kiss to Draco’s cheek before hurrying out the door without looking back.

When he offered another kiss on the cheek when Draco arrived at the Leaky Cauldron the next evening, he held his breath when Draco blinked furiously for a moment before smiling as a light blush coloured his pale skin. Harry breathed in relief and offered a small smile in return, shoving the glass of whiskey he’d already ordered for Draco over. 

They kept up their dating schedule for a couple more weeks, arriving and leaving with a kiss on the cheek every time since that quidditch Friday. 

Harry was happy, and hopeful that this entire courting-thing was leading somewhere. 

He was running out of ideas about what to do though, so he was happy with the inspiration Ginny provided in her letters. 

_ Lovely, lovely Harry, _

_ I love reading about your courting adventures. It’s like I’m reading one of mum’s romance novels, but better!  _

_ From what you’re telling me, Malfoy’s definitely into you but it doesn’t look like he’s going to be the one to take the first step. _

_ What are you waiting for, Harry? What are you afraid of? You deserve happiness, grab it!  _

_ As for your dates, I saw Dean and Seamus last week. Dean's exhibition is travelling and they’re coming to Tokyo (I might have had a hand in that…) in a couple of weeks. Maybe that’ll be nice for you and Malfoy? _

_ Oliver and I are good, good enough to bring him home and expose him to the Weasley-madness anyway. He knows most of the family though, so I’m not too worried. _

_ Mum and dad say hi, as well as the lot of them. Everyone misses you, but they said they want to respect your need to be by yourself for a while. Little do they know that you’re living a romance novel over there! Anyway, I should go, Oliver insists I practice my flying skills some more, though I secretly think he finds me hot in quidditch gear and he’s looking forward to the after-practice shower. Oops, is that what you meant when you told me I tend to overshare in your last letter? Sorry, but not really, haha. _

_ Keep in touch, sweet idiot. _

_ Love, _

_ Ginny _

  
  


Harry chuckled to himself as he read Ginny’s letter over lunch. He folded the parchment and stuffed it into the back pocket of his stonewashed jeans before heading out. The weather was nice, the rain had let up over the last couple of days and a tentative sun had taken its place. He’d told Draco to meet at the large park in the middle of wizarding Tokyo, where the cherry blossom festival was held over the weekend. Harry didn’t know exactly what to expect, but had heard it would be magnificent, so he’d decided it was a good destination for their tenth date.

Harry grinned as he saw Draco standing in front of the entrance, right next to the engraved stone arch that led straight to the largest boulevard. Harry had noticed that Draco chose muggle clothes over robes and cloaks more often when it wasn’t for work, and he didn’t mind one bit. It allowed him a far better view of Draco’s slender physique. His strong thighs flexed against the black jeans he wore while the dark green dress shirt followed the curves of his arms and torso. 

“Hi,” Harry breathed as he leaned in for a kiss on the cheek. “You ready?”

“ _ I _ was born ready, Potter,” Draco teased, pointedly casting a tempus to show that Harry was in fact three whole minutes late. “Unlike some other people.”

“How was work?” Harry chose to ignore the jab, goodnaturedly rolling his eyes at the blond man in front of him.

“Fine, we’ve got a new apprentice at the apothecary this week. Her work is promising so far.”

As they talked, they started walking into the park, choosing the smaller paths over the larger boulevards where most people seemed to be.

Harry loved watching Draco as he talked. He always seemed so passionate when talking about potion brewing and teaching, and he knew Draco watched him too. They didn’t feel the need to keep talking the entire time, both just as happy in the comfortable silence between them, their arms brushing as they walked on. Through the course of the afternoon, they stumbled upon concerts or dance performances or grabbed something to eat from one of the many food stalls that were sprinkled all over the park. 

After a few hours, the sun had started to set. As it grew darker, the fairy lights that were strung through the cherry trees lit up, bathing the entire park in twinkling lights.

“Those noodles smell like heaven,” Harry remarked, mouth watering. “You want some, too?”

Draco nodded and as they joined the short cue, they overheard the group of witches in front of them saying they had only 20 minutes left before the big spectacle on the central field. 

Shrugging, they decided to follow the crowds once they’d gotten their noodles, eating in silence as they walked on. 

Once they’d reached the central field, it became obvious why it was called a big spectacle. The entire field was filled with sky lanterns, still unlit, but it was easy to tell that it would be a magnificent sight when they would all be lit up simultaneously to float up to the sky. On a central stage, a band started playing traditional music, and the buzz of the crowd died down. A few minutes in, wizards and witches dressed in traditional robes emerged from the rows of spectators and started waving their wands in intricate patterns, performing wordless spells that lit up the lanterns row by row. As the air inside the balloons warmed, the lantern took off the ground, and before long the sky was filled with floating lights, taking the wishes that were written on the paper with them.

Draco watched on, mesmerised by the beautiful sight in front of them, and Harry… Harry watched Draco. He could see the lights reflected in Draco’s eyes, the wonder on his face more magnificent than any other view could ever be, if anyone asked him.

After a couple of minutes, Draco caught on to him and they locked eyes. Unlike the snarky remark Harry had expected, Draco simply smiled warmly at him, and suddenly Harry remembered what Ginny had told him.  _ Grab it. _

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispered, offering Draco a chance to deny him as he leaned closer, a hand moving up to Draco’s lightly stubbled cheek before he closed the distance between them.

Harry couldn’t hold back the small moan escaping his throat as their lips finally touched. He felt Draco smiling under his lips and deepened the kiss, running his tongue across Draco’s upper lip before pulling back.

It was Draco who chased his lips and initiated a second, longer kiss. Their arms wrapped around each other's waist and shoulders, and even as they were being jostled by the throngs of people leaving the park as the sky lanterns went out, they stayed where they were. 

It was sweet, it was soft and had just the tiniest amount of tongue involved. 

“Merlin,” Harry sighed as he finally let go, his grin getting even larger at the sight of Draco’s slightly swollen lips. 

Draco chuckled and almost bashfully looked at the ground. “Sweet Merlin, indeed,” he agreed. “Shall we go?” he asked as he looked around. “Feels a bit creepy to stay here alone now that everyone’s left.”

Harry nodded and started to turn, offering his hand and feeling something in his stomach flutter as Draco took it and intertwined their fingers.

_ Dear Ginny, _

_ YES, THAT IS WHAT I MEANT WITH YOU ALWAYS OVERSHARING _

_ Merlin. _

_ But I guess the sex is good then, which is… good for you, I suppose. _

_ You would be proud. Went out on a date yesterday and it was wonderful and so romantic and I kissed him under the light of a million sky lanterns (okay, maybe it was closer to 500 but it was a lot anyway) and he kissed me back and fucking finally. _

_ I’m absolutely exhilarated Ginny, it’s so amazing. I mean, I knew it would be good when he finally gave in, but I never could’ve dreamed it would be  _ this _ good.  _

_ How did the introduction of Oliver Wood as your new boyfriend go? How bad was George and Lee’s prank?  _

_ Thanks for the tip on Dean’s exhibition, they’re in town next week and I got us tickets for the opening night. It’ll be nice to see Dean and Seamus again. If there’s one thing I miss while being here it’s pub night with all of you. Got to admit that pub night with Draco kind of makes up for it though.  _

_ Speaking of which, I’m supposed to go and meet him soon.  _ _   
_ _ Give my love to everyone there, and tell Hermione I  _ will  _ reply to her letter soon. It’s not easy not to let on about Draco though, and I think I should tell them in person, maybe? _

_ Love, _

_ Harry _


	10. Chapter 10

Harry knew he shouldn’t make a big deal out of it. He was well aware that physical contact was something that didn’t come easy for Draco and he should cherish what he did get. Like the soft kiss when he picked him up, or holding hands while walking the streets and apparating. 

And yet. It had never been an issue in the past two weeks, but now...

Ever since they had arrived at the art gallery that hosted Dean’s exhibition, Draco had been withdrawn and distant. Harry had caught him glaring at the back of his head when he had hugged Seamus and Dean, kissing their cheeks when he pulled away, and had offered nothing more than a stiff nod himself. For the rest of the night, he had been standing half an arm’s length away from Harry at all times, not engaging in the conversation in any way unless he was directly addressed, his gaze fixed on the paintings. At first, Harry had worried something was wrong, even if Draco had been acting perfectly normal when he’d picked him up. Finally, he had taken Draco’s arm, only to have his hand shaken off, and asked if he was okay, but he had only gotten a “Perfectly fine,” in reply. 

As long as they were at the gallery with a glass of sparkling elven wine in hand and Dean and Seamus to talk to about art and their friends in England, Harry tried to act normal. The crowd thinned out though, and as Seamus yawned loudly, Harry knew it was time to go. They said their goodbyes, grabbed their coats and walked back to the apparition point close by. Unlike he had done on their arrival, Draco made sure not to touch Harry anywhere. No hand holding, no arms brushing together, let alone a kiss. 

They apparated to the apparition point near Draco’s place separately, Harry fuming by the time they’d completed the short walk to the house.

“What on earth is wrong with you?” he finally asked when they’d passed through the gate. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“Not here, Harry,” Draco gritted out, taking big steps towards the door, not waiting for Harry to follow.

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco’s back but still followed into the house. “Well?”

“Well, what?” Draco spat. 

“Why are you like this all of a sudden? I thought you’d like the exhibition. You like art, you like receptions, I don’t know what happened!?” Harry asked exasperatedly. 

“Oh, the art was likeable enough, though I’m not sure you saw  _ any _ of it.”

Harry let out a frustrated growl, hands pulling at his hair so it came out of the hairband and resembled more of a bird’s nest than a bun. “What are you on about Draco?”

“I’d think you would know what I’m on about,  _ Potter,”  _ Draco spat.

Harry was seething with anger. “Fuck. You. Draco. I’m not doing this. I’m not taking the bait,” he hissed, walking closer to Draco. “I’m not going to fight with you, not like this. I am now going to step outside and curse a dummy instead of you. We’ll continue this when we’ve both got our temper under control.”

_ Hermione would be  _ so _ proud, _ he thought as he stalked over to the door, threw it open and legged outside to the small supplies closet that was located to the side of the broomshed. He pulled out his training dummy and set it up on the grass before stepping back a couple of yards. He wasn’t proud of the spells he used, blue, green and red flashes of magic lighting up the darkness surrounding him as the spells rattled the metal he had used to make up the dummy’s torso. The spells he was using had little to do with defense against dark magic, and were some of the more advanced ones he had picked up in Auror- or Heichi academy, only to be used in extreme circumstances. Still, he had found that it was better to curse a dummy with them than keep it all inside, or worse, use them on an actual person. 

He wasn’t sure how long he kept it up before he had worked up a sweat and the anger inside of him had subsided a little. He closed his eyes for a second, the night air cooling the sweat on his skin and making him shiver slightly. He heard the door open behind him and turned to see Draco walking outside, still a stubborn set to his mouth, but he seemed calmer at least.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked as Draco had reached him, making sure to keep his voice level. 

“Put that thing away, and come inside,” the blond man huffed, obviously holding on to his pride to keep other things from breaking through his facade.

Harry rolled his eyes but obliged anyway, rolling the dummy back into the closet and following Draco inside.

“You ready to talk  _ now _ ?” he asked, feeling more exasperated than angry with the other man.

“Talk about how  _ you  _ were all over them, all evening, hugging them and kissing their cheeks and talking about how you miss going out with them,” Draco sneered, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he drew himself up to his full height, a couple of inches larger than Harry.

Harry deflated, suddenly seeing clearly what this was all about. “For fuck’s sake Draco, are you telling me you’re jealous of Dean and Seamus?” he sighed, slumping down against the wall opposite Draco and watching him closely.

“No.” Draco replied stubbornly, that proud tilt to his chin that Harry equally loved and hated.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Except that you are. Draco, they are my friends. I know hugging and kissing on the cheek is kind of a big deal for you, but it’s not for me, it hasn't been for years. It’s what I do when I meet with my friends. It doesn’t mean I want to bed them. Merlin, please no. Dean and Seamus are married, for fuck’s sake! And I’m with you. I have no desire to be with anyone else.”

Draco visibly deflated but didn’t reply in any other way than shrugging.

“What are you afraid of?” Harry knew he was taking a risk here, taking the tiny hint Draco had dropped and turning it into an honest conversation about their feelings. When Draco let out a shaky breath and sank down onto the couch, face hidden in his hands, he knew he had asked the right question. He moved over and sank down next to the blond, keeping his distance as much as he could to not intrude in Draco’s space. “What is it?” he asked again, quietly.

Another shrug, Draco’s lips going white from how tightly he was pressing them together.

“Draco, come on, if we want this to work, we’re going to  _ have _ to talk about things. I’m rubbish at it and Ginny and Hermione always give me shit about it, but I’ve learned it’s important. Hard as hell, but still important.”

Draco gave him a calculating look, then turned to stare at his fingernails and picked at some loose skin on his thumb before he spoke. 

“I- I just realised that I’m waiting for you to find someone else. Something better. Less complicated,” he murmured.

“Draco - “

“No, let me speak, please.” Draco’s voice became louder and he looked Harry in the eye for a second to make sure he would listen. “When you left, I - I was hurt. Of course I knew, rationally, that you’d go back to England, and that you had a girlfriend and an entire group of friends to return to. I knew that. But it still hurt that you could pack up and leave, go back to that different life while I was stuck here. Not only because I want to be here, but also because there is no alternative. My father’s in Azkaban, my mother is working hard to get back into society and doesn’t need me causing more controversy. Most of my friends are either dead, imprisoned or mad at me for either joining the Death Eaters and doing what I did, or for not staying loyal until the end. I was jealous, and hurt.” He swallowed.

“Especially when I never heard from you again, I told myself I’d been stupid to believe you could ever be my friend. Let alone return any of the feelings I’d developed by the end of your stay.”

“Wh-”

“Wait.”

Harry nodded, closing his mouth again so Draco could continue.

“I already told you what I thought when I first saw you again. And then when you said that… that you’re in love with me… I didn’t dare believe you. But as we went out, I could tell you were sincere so I - I gave it a chance. Us. But there is still something inside of me that keeps telling me that you won’t stay. That one day you’ll realise you don’t want to be with someone who complicates your life as much as I will. Already do. Someone who’s never been on the wrong side in a war and doesn’t have to overthink everything at least twice to make sure it won’t do any damage to the meticulously rebuilt reputation of the family.”

Harry waited a few more seconds until he was sure Draco was finished. 

“Draco, I never planned to fall in love with you.“And yes, it is and will be complicated, what we have, I’m not going to deny that. But, Draco. I came back for you. I  _ chose _ you. I chose  _ you.  _ I don’t want someone who won’t keep me on my toes the entire time, I want  _ you. _ Complicated or not. Jealous twat or not.” A slight smile tugged at his lips, and he let a small chuckle escape as Draco shoved his shoulder. He put his hand over Draco’s as it rested on Draco’s thigh and squeezed it.

“Are we okay?”

Draco looked at him and nodded. “We’re okay. And I’m sorry for the way I acted.”

“I get it now, it’s okay,” Harry smiled softly. 

“Do you want to stay? On the couch, I mean, we could enlarge it, or transfigure it into a bed,” he hastily added. “It’s just that… it’s late, and your hotel’s not that close, and I’m off work tomorrow.” Draco swallowed. “And I’d like to spend the day with you.”

“Yes, Draco, I’d be happy to stay.” Harry allowed his smile to grow a little larger and stood up, giving Draco’s hand another squeeze before letting go.

They made quick work of transfiguring the couch into something large enough to fit Harry’s entire body, summoned bedding and made his bed for the night. Harry put his arms around Draco before he retired to his bedroom, holding him close as they shared a soft good night kiss.

“Good night, Draco.”

“Sleep well, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He watched Draco walk out of the living room and thought to himself that while it definitely  _ was  _ complicated, he wouldn’t want it any other way. He also realised he’d have to tell Ron and Hermione soon; now that Dean and Seamus knew, he couldn’t leave them in the dark.

  
  
  


_ Dear Harry, _

_ Oh love, I’m so sorry you’ve been fretting about your news for so long! And I’m quite surprised that Ginny managed not to tell anyone anything, to be honest. There’s no need to worry, Harry, I promise. While we don’t know the Malfoy you’re talking about, the one you’ve fallen for, I’m sure he’s changed for the better and all that matters is that you’re happy. Harry, you’ve been so sad, so thoroughly unhappy for so long, so I’m just really glad that is changing. I hated seeing you so depressed after the break-up with Ginny. I hope he’s treating you right, and you him. While I now definitely understand why you didn’t come home for Easter, I still hope we’ll see you (both?) soon. _ _   
_ _ Now that we’re sharing big news… I really wanted to tell you in person, but well… I’m pregnant and have been sick all the time, so my healer thinks it unwise to travel internationally. To be honest, I’m glad if I get to work without puking these days. Minerva has been very kind about it, and both Madam Pomfrey and Isabella are trying to find a potion that might help it get better. The healers told me that it usually gets better after twelve weeks though, so if they are right it’ll be over in just a couple of weeks. I’m due in November, so Molly (who knew at first sight at Easter, she must be psychic) has started knitting baby-sized warm sweaters and mittens and hats. The baby will be permanently overheated, I think. My mum likes to take me shopping for any kind of thing the baby might need, and my dad is trying to build a bed and cupboard in his workshop. Most spoiled baby ever, already.  _

_ I’m glad you know now too, so I can tell finally let Susan in on the secret. She’s been eyeing me suspiciously whenever we meet up. It’s only logical that she recognises it so well, I suppose. She’s due in only a couple of months, and she’s getting quite big now. Ernie is the sweetest, you should really see how he dotes on her, even more than before she was pregnant.  _

_ Maybe I should send Ron to him for some lessons… _

_ No, I'm only kidding. Ron’s really sweet and cute about it. He’s always worried about me and has even started to cook me healthy meals whenever he gets home in time. His cooking needs some improvement still, unfortunately, so I don’t mind that he’s usually late, haha. _

_ You’ve probably heard already, but Teddy was absolutely smitten by that charmed little dragon you’ve sent him. He’s been flying it around the entire time since he got it in the mail, it’s driving Andromeda nuts.  _

_ When are you planning to come back to Hogwarts? Ron and I wanted to travel a bit over the summer but we’ll have to see how our tiny one is treating me by then. And I still have to find someone to replace me next year, of course. Minerva said she wants to find me a back up starting September, just to be sure. Now that I think of it, I’ll probably have to work for a couple of weeks through the summer to get everything ready for whoever replaces me. _

_ I’ll be glad to have you back though, it’s not the same without you, but you should definitely enjoy Tokyo (and Draco) while you’re there! _

_ Everyone sends their love, as always, including the tiniest Weasley. _

_ Love,  _

_ Hermione _

“What are you smiling about?” Draco asked, looking up from where he was stirring the steaming potion on his workstation. 

“Hermione’s pregnant,” Harry replied, walking over to stand behind Draco and wrap his arms around him. “And she said she supports us.”

Draco turned to look at him, a tiny smile on his lips. “Yeah? That’s… nice,” he said.

Harry grinned at him, nodding before offering a kiss.

Ever since their talk on the night of Dean’s exhibition, physical contact had become easier for Draco, or so it seemed. They often spent the evenings pressed close together on Draco’s new couch, and Harry found himself grateful that it was so small. They each read their own books, listened to the wireless or talked about whatever they wanted to talk about. Harry loved it when Draco let him lie down with his legs over the arm of the couch and his head in Draco’s lap, his long fingers scratching through his hair. 

When Draco was working on one of his potion experiments, Harry happily looked on from the couch, a fond look on his face. Usually that resulted in an exasperated eye roll and a thrown pillow as Draco insisted the staring was distracting him. 

Not that he was much better; he liked it well enough when Harry was practicing duels outside, and sometimes even let Harry teach him a couple of things. 

“Do you have a lot of work left? I feel like going out, dancing or something.”

Draco eyed his potion critically. “An hour, I think. But dancing sounds good, it’s been ages since I went.” He was quiet for a bit as he added a pinch of yellow powder to his cauldron. “Probably since that night I chewed you out in the loo,” he smirked, throwing a wink Harry’s way.

“Wasn’t in the loo,” Harry grumbled, though a smile was fighting to get through.

“Just outside of it then. But yes, let’s go dancing later. Prepare us something to eat while I finish this. Something greasy, you like your alcohol too much to stay sober.”

“Look who’s talking,” Harry mumbled, already on his way to the kitchen to see what they had in the cupboards.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll consider this chapter a reward for everyone who's been so patient with me! <3 
> 
> I've actually finished the story and it's currently with Layla to be beta-read, and when I've edited it, I'm going to be posting it all for you to enjoy until the very end.

“Oh! I love this song!” Harry yelled in an attempt to be heard over the pounding basses. “Come on, dance with me!” They’d arrived right after the big crowd and had switched from dancing to drinking at the bar a couple of times in the two or three hours they’d been at the club.

Draco grinned, threw back the remnants of his beer and followed Harry to the middle of the dance floor. 

They started off at a respectable distance. Harry admired Draco as he danced, his arms moving around his body with an elegance Harry would never achieve, but it didn’t take long before the crowd pushed them closer together. First, it was their arms touching, then their legs got closer and finally their entire bodies were pressed together. It was Draco who leaned down the slightest bit to capture Harry’s lips in a searing kiss, the people around them quickly forgotten. Harry moaned at Draco’s decisiveness, claiming his mouth while his hands slid down from Draco’s shoulder to the dip right above his arse. 

Draco’s body was warm under his shirt, and feeling it move against his own to the beat of the music only spurred him on. He moved his hands further down, and it appeared to startle Draco as his hips twitched. Harry’s leg was in between Draco’s and the small movement made him grind against Harry’s thigh. Apparently Harry wasn’t the only one affected by their intimacy. 

Their kiss became even more heated, legs entangling as they both sought out friction on the other’s thigh. Draco’s hands had found their way to Harry’s arse too, and while they pushed and pulled themselves closer together, their kiss turned filthier by the minute. 

“Home,” Draco finally panted as he managed to draw back for a second. “Should take this home.”

Harry quickly agreed, disentangled himself from Draco and decided to forego all subtlety as he adjusted himself enough to get out of the club. He groaned quietly as his jeans rubbed just this way but shook himself out of it.

They quickly retrieved their coats but only spared one look at the line for the apparition point in the entrance hall before deciding to abandon all rules and apparate right from the vestibule to the street in front of Draco’s house. Usually, one wasn’t allowed to apparate out on the street, and the wards were so that not even Draco could apparate inside of his house from over 500 yards away, but as it was the middle of the night, and considering the state they were both in, Harry figured they could break the rules just this once. 

As soon as they landed, he grabbed Draco and continued their kiss while he pushed open the gate with his hip and let Draco walk him back towards the front door and inside the hallway. He pulled away briefly to get rid of his shoes and coat, putting them on their designated spots as he knew Draco found that kind of thing important. A grin took over his face as he saw how thoroughly debauched Draco already looked. His lips were bright red, his hair had left it’s usual coiffed state and was pointing every which way from where Harry’s hands had messed it up. He moved closer again, hands already reaching for Draco’s neck when he felt Draco’s hand on his chest, pushing him back.

“Hold on,” he muttered. “Neither of us is sober enough for this. I don’t want my first time to be a drunk thing I might not properly remember in the morning.”

If Harry was worried before, it all melted away in a second as he heard his boyfriend. “You’re right,” he smiled. “Our first time deserves better than a drunk romp. Should we…”

“I- uh… I’ve got some sobering potion in my medicine cabinet,” Draco admitted, tilting his face in embarrassment.

“This is why I love you-” Harry began, only realising too late that they hadn’t exactly said that with that many words. He stopped and looked at Draco, waiting for him to restore their eye contact.

Draco simply smiled. “I take it that you want some, then?”

“Please,” Harry huffed, relieved that Draco didn’t make much of his confession. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t said it back. Harry knew how he felt and he could tell Draco’s feelings for him weren’t much different. He just might need some more time.

By the time they’d both emptied the small vial that contained the sobering potion, slowly feeling the haze of the alcohol leave their bodies, the heated urgency had died down as well. They both came down from their lust-induced high and Draco even looked a bit abashed. 

Harry assessed the situation and decided it would be wrong to continue the way they had entered the house.

“Maybe we could go and sit on the couch for a bit? Have a cuddle?”

Draco smiled, a grateful look in his eyes as he turned and led the way through the living room. 

Harry turned his body so that he was facing Draco instead of being pressed together sideways, his knee pulled up on the cushions while his arm rested on the back of the couch, hand playing with Draco’s hair. 

“Draco?”

“Hmmm?”

“You seemed far away,” Harry smiled, his fingers twirling through the silken strands.

“I was just… thinking,” Draco replied, grabbing Harry’s other hand where it was lying on his thigh.

“It’s okay if you… changed your mind, you know that, right? I mean, if you think it’s too soon or you don’t do sex before marriage or even not at all, you can tell me and I won’t push.”

“Shut up, idiot,” Draco chastised with an eyeroll. “I don’t think it’s too soon and I don’t care anymore about the stupid rules about waiting until married and I’m not asexual either, in case you hadn’t noticed my enthusiasm earlier.”

Harry chuckled at his reply, but suddenly realised his choice of words. He didn't care…  _ anymore _ . And he didn’t want  _ his _ first time to be a drunk affair.

“You’ve never had sex before, have you?” he asked. While sober, he still wasn’t subtle. Besides, he had learned that subtleness and sextalk weren’t always a good combination. 

“Sweet Morgana, I’m not a bumbling virgin, Potter,” Draco bit out. 

“I never said that,” Harry replied patiently. 

“You’re not wrong though. I know there’ve always been rumours about the Slytherin common room and the sex parties we supposedly hosted there, but most of it is fabricated.”

“Yeah- I’ve uhm. Heard those rumours. Orgies and such.”

Draco huffed out a laugh. “Definitely no orgies. Pureblood purity is about more than marrying amongst our own. And - it’s not that I’ve never… done anything. Some of the rumours  _ were  _ true. Pansy’s a minx, or at least she was, and I think she’s traded handjobs with most of the boys our year. With me also, a couple of times. Until I realised I didn’t swing that way. Theo and I… we had a thing. Briefly. At the end of fifth year. I obviously had other things on my mind in sixth so we never continued it. Our parents never would have agreed on anything between us anyway, so it seemed silly to try and pursue it over the summer.”

“And after the war?”

Draco shook his head. “Don’t think I could’ve found anyone who would want me to touch them with a six foot pole, or the other way around, in Britain. And here… I’ve been keeping busy with other things. Didn’t want to risk my job here by losing focus because of dating and I’m no fan of meaningless sex.”

“But you want to now, with me? Well, not the meaningless part, but the sex, I mean,” Harry blabbered, just to be sure again.

“If you still want to, now that you know that I don’t live up to the Slytherin reputation,” Draco answered self-deprecatingly, gaze fixed on their joined hands. 

“Draco,” Harry whispered, forcing Draco to look at him. “I don’t give a flying fuck, to be honest.”

Draco tilted his chin in that familiar way as he fixed Harry’s gaze. “What about you?”

Harry smiled and cleared his throat, looking at the hand that was still playing with Draco’s hair. 

“Well, there was Ginny, obviously. We were together for three years. And uhm, after we broke up, and I realised that I might like blokes too, I went out to muggle gay bars a couple of times to… gain some experience.”

“You mean you wanted to pick up guys to have sex with them,” Draco grinned, apparently delighted at the way Harry shuffled uncomfortably at the mention of his experiments.

Harry rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. “Yes, I did. And I learned that, purely physically, I liked it. A lot. But casual sex isn’t my thing either.”

“The Saviour is all about sweet and romantic love affairs, then, huh?” Draco teased. 

“Don’t call me that. And it doesn’t have to be all sweet and romantic, as long as it means something in the long run too,” Harry replied, not falling for Draco’s bait.

“Fine, I understand what you’re saying.” 

They both were quiet for a bit, lost in their thoughts until Draco spoke up again.

“Were there many? Anonymous muggle men, I mean.”

Harry smirked. “You’re not jealous, are you?” He chuckled as Draco glared at him. “Not a lot no, four, maybe five, I think? All tall, blond and handsome but neither as hot n _ or  _ as challenging as you.”

“Good. Do you- I know we were planning to do other things, but I kind of enjoy talking to you like this. Do you mind if we continue for a bit?” Draco asked, an uncertain look in his eyes.

“No, of course not. I like talking to you. We’ve got plenty of time to do other things, still, right?”

Draco nodded, shifting around to get comfortable. “Why did you and Ginny break up?”

Harry sighed, trying to figure out where to start.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’ve been wondering,” Draco added, squeezing his hand.

“I don’t mind telling you anything, Draco, it’s just… it’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always when it’s about relationships?”

“I suppose… yeah.” Harry smiled, turning a bit further so he could put his feet up on Draco’s lap, their hands still entwined on his thigh. “When I came back from Tokyo, we had two months together. Ginny had time off also, and I didn’t have to be at Hogwarts until September first. We had a great summer. Ginny and I have always been best friends before anything else. We visited friends, hung out together,” he hesitated, “and had a whole lot of sex too,” he added, almost apologetically. “When school started, her practice did too, so we only saw each other on the weekends. At the end of September, Ginny turned out to be pregnant.” Harry looked up from where he had been looking at their hands. 

Draco was quiet, looking at him with rapt attention and his face rather expressionless. 

“It - it was bad timing. I knew that. She knew that. Yet when we went to St Mungo’s and I saw that baby… heard its heartbeat… fuck. Suddenly it seemed so unfair to - terminate is the term the healers use, I think.”

“Ginny had an abortion?” Draco asked, voice quiet as he sought Harry’s eyes.

“She was going to,” Harry nodded, “but when we went back, it turned out that the heart had stopped beating. We’d lost the baby already.”

“I’m sorry.”

Harry smiled sadly and shrugged half-heartedly. “It’s okay. It’s better this way. Anyway, after that… We started drifting apart. I was mourning, and I felt that Ginny was more relieved that it had been decided for us. We stopped talking, stopped having sex and in the end, we hardly even saw each other. It still took us eight months to break up. Or well, for Ginny to leave.”

“And you?”

Harry huffed. “I was angry, and sad, and hurt. It took me until Christmas break to realise I couldn’t go on like that. So I asked Minerva if I could take a leave of absence, packed my trunks and left.”

“And here you are,” Draco smiled gently.

“Here I am.”

“Would it be wrong to say that I’m happy things went the way they did?” Draco asked, shuffling closer even if Harry didn’t know how it was possible with the way they were pressed together.

Harry chuckled and shook his head.

“I am too, for that matter. Ginny and I are better as friends than we were as lovers. We both realise that now. She’s happy with Oliver, and I’ve got you.”

Draco nodded, surprised as he had to yawn widely. He chuckled and squeezed Harry’s thigh. 

“Maybe we should go to bed. You could… join me in the bedroom, if you wanted? It’ll be more comfortable than sleeping on a transfigured couch.”

Draco looked almost embarrassed at his proposition, a pale pink blush high on his cheeks.

Harry smirked, contemplating if he should make him suffer some more or not. “Bedroom sounds wonderful, Draco,” he finally settled on, and the brilliant smile on Draco’s face was worth foregoing his teasing. 

“Just for sleeping though, stallion. I’m too tired for anything else.”

Harry rolled his eyes, playfully chasing Draco through the living room as they disentangled themselves and got up from the couch. He sobered up as soon as he entered Draco’s bedroom. He hadn’t been inside before, and was impressed by the stylish decor, even if it was kept simple and sober. Behind the king size bed, there was a black wall with Japanese signs painted in bright red. Harry couldn’t read them, but the same signs came back in an engraving on the bed’s ebony headboard and on a small wooden block that stood on the side table on what appeared to be Draco’s side of the bed. Apart from that, the walls were white and there was no decoration but three pictures and a black and white drawing on the wall opposite the bed. The wardrobe was ebony as well and was on the smaller side, standing next to the door, opposite the window. 

Both men quickly undressed to their boxer shorts and slid between the cool sheets. 

At first, Harry stayed on his side of the bed, careful not to overstep, but Draco quickly huffed that he wanted to be cuddled, so Harry happily shifted over to the middle of the large mattress, wrapping himself around Draco’s slender frame, his back warm against Harry’s chest. 

When Harry woke up the next morning, it was to a still sleeping Draco and a nasty case of morning wood. The way Draco’s arse was still snuggly pressed against his pelvis didn’t help one bit. The rising sun coming through the burgundy coloured curtains bathed the room in a soft red light. Harry nuzzled closer into Draco’s neck, nosing his shoulder blade while his leg found its way between Draco’s. His hips started shifting slightly, his erection rubbing between Draco’s arse cheeks over his boxer shorts. He smiled against Draco’s skin as he felt him still for a short moment before relaxing again. Draco pressed himself the slightest bit closer, but other than that, didn’t let on that he was awake. 

Harry let him think he wasn’t on to him for a little longer, pressing small kisses along his neck and behind his ear until a small moan escaped Draco’s lips, immediately stifled but Harry had heard and chuckled.

“I know you’re awake,” he smiled, kissing the spot that had elicited the moan once more, letting his teeth linger for a small nibble. 

Somehow, even without seeing his face, he could  _ feel _ Draco’s grin growing larger on his face. He tightened his grip and pulled Draco impossibly closer against his own body before loosening his arms again, allowing the man to turn around in his embrace.

“Good morning,” Draco mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. It tasted like menthol and Harry made a mental note to ask him for the wandless non verbal spell he’d performed. He always only managed to get rid of the staleness of his morning breath but this was definitely next level. 

“Morning,” he grinned. “I suggest we forego the talking this morning?”

“Please,” Draco moaned, thrusting his hips forward to illustrate his want. 

Harry moaned at the feeling of Draco’s hard-on against his thigh, mouth watering already at the prospect of what was to come. He leaned forward, catching Draco’s lips between his and instantly deepening the kiss. His tongue met little to no resistance and Harry sighed as he was let into the moist warmth of Draco’s mouth. He moved his legs a bit to gain momentum and pushed up, turning them so Draco was underneath him. His knees parted to accommodate Draco’s legs between them and he had to stop himself from grinding down and rubbing himself off to climax in his boxers like his 14 year-old self in the Gryffindor dorm. 

“Fuck Draco, I want you so much,” he gritted out, burying his face in Draco’s neck again, the blond stubble rubbing against his own neck and leaving the most delicious burn in its wake.

“Then take me, Potter,” Draco groaned out, almost an order.

Harry growled at that, pulled Draco’s ear lobe between his teeth until the other man keened and then pushed himself down his chest. The blond curls tickled his nose as he pressed kisses on the pale skin on his way down. He licked along the thick white lines of Draco’s scars, took his nipples between his teeth and pulled before letting his fingers take over to rub them to hardness. Draco’s body was as tightly wound as a string. His heels dug into the mattress for leverage as he opened his legs to allow Harry’s body to slide down between them.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?” he asked, chuckling as Draco replied that he should get on with it already. 

Harry could smell Draco’s arousal as he ducked under the covers, nosing the coarse hair that led down from his belly button into his boxers. Draco’s erection was straining to escape the confines of the soft black coton, the head already on its way out. Harry’s tongue flicked against it, a sly smile forming on his lips at Draco’s loud groan. He mouthed at Draco’s hard-on through the fabric, soaking it with precome and saliva before licking the head again. 

“Can I?” he asked, wanting to make sure not to overstep.

“YES!” Draco yelled exasperatedly.

He concentrated for a second and wandlessly vanished the piece of clothing. Draco’s erection sprung out of its confines and stood proudly, ready to be devoured. Harry pressed his own pelvis down into the mattress in an attempt to calm down, or to get some much wanted friction, he wasn’t exactly sure. He subconsciously licked his lips before he opened his mouth and sunk down on Draco's cock, tongue pressing against the vein on the underside. The head soon pressed against the back of his throat, and to the soundtrack of Draco's moans, he swallowed. 

"Oh! Sweet Morgana, you're driving me nuts!" Draco yelled, hands reaching under the covers until they found Harry's mess of hair and pulled the strands tightly, making  _ him _ moan in turn. 

Harry sucked hard and pulled off, tongue swirling around Draco's cock as he moved toward the head. He gave an extra hard suck before he started licking it in earnest, catching every tiny drop of precome that beaded at the slit before it had a chance to grow bigger and drip down. 

He freed one of his hands from under Draco’s knees and, while keeping up his sucking and licking, head bobbing up and down slowly, started stroking his scrotum. Featherlight touches on the sensitive skin before moving towards Draco’s perineum. After stroking for a bit, he finally pulled off Draco’s dick and started tonguing and sucking at his balls, taking them into his mouth one by one while his fingers started massaging his prostate through his perineum in earnest. 

Draco’s moaning had gone from slurred words to panting and unintelligible sounds. All the while his hands stayed buried in Harry’s curls that had long since made their escape from his ponytail.

Harry’s currently unoccupied hand moved to Draco’s cock, picking up the precome that could now make an escape down the shaft and stroking in time to the circles he was rubbing into Draco’s perineum.

“Fuck, Harry. Stop. No wait, don’t stop. Just. I’m… I’m going to-”

Harry released the testicle he was sucking on and moved his mouth towards Draco’s dick again. “Then come, Draco,” he muttered, just before he let his jaw drop and lowered his mouth. His right hand kept massaging Draco’s prostate and as he felt his balls draw close to his body, he smirked around the dick resting on his tongue. He took it a little bit deeper and swallowed, which was enough for Draco to let out a loud groan as he released into Harry’s throat. 

Harry swallowed as much as he could and swiped the remainder with his finger before pressing featherlight kisses to Draco’s thighs, his stomach and up to his chest as he crawled back up from beneath the sheets. As he emerged and came face to face with the blond man, he couldn’t help the grin appearing on his face. Draco looked properly debauched. A rosy blush high on his cheeks, his hair in disarray on the pillow, eyes clouded with lust and chest still heaving as he came down from his high. Harry had never seen him look this beautiful and only just resisted the urge to tell him as much. Instead, he leaned down for a kiss, lowering his body on top of Draco. He always loved feeling the weight of his partner on top of him after a climax, and he decided to take a chance on Draco liking the same thing. And if not, he’d just have to say so. 

Draco kissed him open mouthed, tongues filthily rubbing together in the small space between their mouths. Draco sucked on Harry’s tongue before biting his bottom lip softly and soothing the sting with a lick right after. 

“Fuck me.” 

It didn’t  _ sound _ like a question, more like a Malfoy’s order, but Harry could see the question in Draco’s eyes. He smirked at the man underneath him, pressing a bruising kiss to his lips before replying.

“Gladly.”

He hissed as Draco’s hand reached down, a cool liquid filling his palm as he grabbed Harry’s hard on. His other arm wound it’s way around Harry’s shoulder, pulling him closer so he was talking directly in Harry’s ear. “Next time, I’m gonna have you open me up with your fingers, or make you watch while I do it myself, but now, I just want you to fuck me so a spell will have to do,” he muttered gruffly, his hand coating Harry’s dick in the slick lube he’d wandlessly conjured moments before. 

By the time he was pleased with his work, he tilted his hips, feet flat on the mattress for leverage and shifted beneath Harry impatiently. 

Harry ducked down again, capturing his bruised lips in yet another kiss, balancing his weight on one hand as the other reached down to grab himself and guide him inside Draco. 

“I know you’ve prepared yourself, but it still might burn. Should get better soon but let me know if I should stop, alright? Won’t move until you say it’s okay.”

The sound Draco let out held the middle between a hiss and a moan, heat burning bright in his eyes as his fingernails pressed crescents into Harry’s shoulder. Harry bottomed out, toes curling as his hips pressed against Draco’s bottom and waited for Draco’s signal to start moving. Draco was hot and tight around him and he could already tell he wouldn’t last long. 

“There’s a spell for that too, if you really want to, but I don’t mind, and probably won’t be long either,” Draco panted when he voiced his thoughts. He wrapped his thighs around Harry’s waist and crossed his ankles at his back, finding more leverage to thrust back against Harry’s movements. “Fuck, this feels good.”

Harry shifted the tiniest bit and could tell he hit the right spot when Draco threw his head back, letting out a long moan of ecstasy. He tried hard to hold his angle while he upped his tempo, pounding hard and fast into Draco while he felt his climax approaching. 

Draco reached between them to stroke his dick but Harry slapped his hand away and replaced it with his own, pulling him off in time with his thrusts. 

“Yes, yes, nearly there, Harry, fuck,” Draco brought out as his back arched, pulling his bottom off the mattress. 

Harry doubled his efforts for a few more thrusts and then felt himself teether on the brink for another one - two - before he came, his come filling up Draco in his hardest orgasm in ages. 

That feeling appeared to be enough to push Draco over the edge as well, sticky white come coating their stomachs as Harry fell on top of Draco while they both recovered. 

“That was…” Harry started.

“Fucking awesome,” Draco finished for him.

Harry chuckled. “Yes, that.”

Harry shifted when they’d both caught their breath, moving his body to the space next to Draco’s while still holding on to the man. 

They traded some soft kisses while cuddling, fingers tracing soft skin and raised scar tissue while they spoke in hushed tones. 

“Everyone always asks where I got them,” Harry confessed when Draco kept tracing a particularly large scar next to his hip. “It’s nice that you don’t.”

“Have enough of them myself, don’t need to be reminded where they’re from. Can’t even remember specific circumstances for most of them.”

“Exactly that.” Harry smiled softly, enjoying the comfortable silence between them for a bit as the sun started to heat up the room now it was nearing noon. “This one’s mine, though, I suppose?” he asked quietly as he traced the long, thin lines of scar tissue on Draco’s chest, as if they were cut by a knife.

“Sectumsempra, was it?” Draco asked.

“I was an idiot for not at least trying to find out what it would do,” Harry admitted him, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity. 

“You were, but we were both idiots at the time. We’ve changed, we both have, and I’d like to believe we’re better men now.”

“I think I like the man you’ve become,” Harry smirked. “And if this is what you call inexperienced, I don’t want to know what your idea of experience is, by the way.”

Draco chuckled as he grinned widely. “I never said I was inexperienced, just that I didn’t do much with other people. Even a Malfoy has his needs, Potter.”

“Hmmm, you might need to tell me more about your solutions later, then,” Harry teased, tossing the sheets aside. “For now though, I’m gonna hop in the shower and get rid of all the stickiness. You might as well join me,” he winked.


	12. Chapter 12

After their highly inefficient yet very pleasurable shower and an extensive brunch, Harry found himself outside, shooting spells in the general direction of his practice dummy while Draco sat peering at his books in the kitchen. The sun was out and soon he took off his sweater, wistfully looking through the window and wondering when Draco would be done studying. The weather was perfect for flying, though he mostly wanted to spend time with Draco, no matter what their activity would be. 

He was a bit bored with his practice and lacked the purpose of lesson plans or field training to keep his focus, so finally he decided to play around with his patronus. It was easy enough to find happiness within him to produce it, and he pointed his wand at the bright translucent stag, letting it prance around on the wildflower patches between the cherry trees. He was just trying to make it chase a butterfly when he was startled by Draco’s voice.

  
  


“I’ve always wondered what my patronus would be,” Draco said, joining Harry where he sat down cross-legged on the freshly cut lawn. 

“You don’t know?” Harry turned to look at him, the stag dissipating without Harry’s wand pointing at him.

“I”ve never even tried the spell.” He shook his head. “Was always taught it’s a spell that wouldn’t work for dark wizards, needs more good energy than any dark wizard could ever dream of having.” He kept his gaze down, not wanting to look at Harry as he was unsure of what he would find in his eyes, and tugged at some blades of grass next to his knees.

Harry put his hand on Draco’s, effectively stilling his movement and he seemed to wait until Draco met his eyes before letting go again. “You’re not a dark wizard anymore, Draco. You’ve changed. I really don’t think there’s any reason why you wouldn’t be able to produce a patronus. It takes practice, it always does, but I’m quite sure a powerful wizard like yourself would be able to manage it.”

Draco shrugged, moving his gaze back to where his fingers were plucking at the grass.

“I could teach you, if you want.”

Draco felt his back stiffen as his fingers halted their movement for a split second. Harry reached out again and squeezed Draco’s shoulder. 

“Let me? I would like it.”

Draco sighed and shifted, shaking his shoulders loose as he looked at Harry. 

“Fine. I’ll allow you one lesson. If I don’t make any progress in one lesson, we’re giving up.”

“Draco, it’s still a difficult spell,” Harry started to protest.

“And I’m still a powerful wizard, you’ve said so yourself,” Draco challenged, eyebrow raised and chin tilted upwards.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, one lesson. Challenge accepted.”

Draco grinned. He wasn’t sure what he wanted most; learn the spell or prove Harry wrong and fail at it.

He went to grab a few bottles of cool water from the ice box while Harry set up the dummy again. Draco was familiar with the theoretical side of a patronus spell, so he had Harry skim over it quickly before moving over to the actual practice. Harry stood up from where they were sitting cross legged in the shadow of a cherry tree. He nudged Draco to do the same and moved to stand behind him. Draco leaned back against his chest slightly as he let Harry correct his stance and posture. His legs were right behind Draco’s, and his hand was on Draco’s wrist to correct his grip. “Loosen your fingers a bit. You’re trying to cast a patronus, not bombarda,” Harry muttered, a pleased hum escaping his lips when Draco did as he was told. “Yes, like that, perfect.” 

Draco suppressed a smile at the teacher in Harry emerging all of a sudden. He could see why his students liked him. He was dedicated, passionate and obviously knew what he was doing.

“Okay, now think of a happy memory. I’m not talking about having a sundae on a beautiful day-happy, but  _ really  _ happy. The sort of happiness that makes you giddy, that you can almost feel up to your toes.”

Draco smiled at his explanation, quickly going through his memories to find one he felt that would work.  _ A holiday in France with his mother. His father had stayed at home to take care of the business and Draco had been able to spend an entire month with just his mother. He was only eight or nine years old. They were staying in the Malfoy estate near Carcassonne, together with Pansy and her mother and there were no obligations, no pressure to behave like a good heir to one of the sacred 28. He was able to simply  _ be. 

“Go back to that memory, put yourself right in the middle of it. Feel it, hear it, see it, smell it,” Harry instructed, and Draco did just that. He could feel the warm sun on his skin, hear the rustling of the lavender in the fields, see the endless meadows and fields surrounding them as they played on the grass in front of the house, smell the freshly baked bread Marie always made in the mornings.

“Now cast the spell.”

“Expecto patronum!” Draco exclaimed, letting his wand-hand be guided by Harry for this first time. 

Nothing happened. 

Rationally, Draco knew it was to be expected, but he was still disappointed. His shoulders sagged, but Harry didn’t give him any time to sulk.

“Again!” he ordered. “First practice the wand movement until you don’t have to think about it anymore.”

Draco obeyed, repeating the movement again and again until Harry was happy with it. 

“Now with the incantation.”

“Expecto patronum!” Draco exclaimed. Ten times, twenty, and then Draco stopped counting.

“Yes, exactly like that,” Harry finally grinned. He moved back to stand behind Draco, put his hands on Draco’s hips and pressed a quick kiss to his pulse point.

“Now, go back to your memory. If it helps, you can tell me about it, sometimes that makes it easier to really get into it.”

“I’m in France,” Draco said, his eyes going glassy as he travelled there in his mind. “I’m a small child. I’m there with my mother, Pansy and her mother. We were so free there,”

Harry could tell he was deeply immersed in the happy feeling the memory held and squeezed his hip. “Cast it,” he whispered. 

“Expecto patronum!” 

This time, Draco didn’t expect it to work. He knew most people took multiple lessons to get it down, and he probably wouldn’t be any different so he hardly watched the end of his wand as he finished the incantation.

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed, his arms moving from Draco’s hips to his waist, squeezing him in an awkward hug from behind. 

Draco looked up just in time to see a silver wisp of magical energy dissipating into the air.

“Did I -? Did I really -?” He turned around to look at Harry, dislocating his arms in the process.

“Yes, Draco! It wasn’t a corporeal patronus of course, but it was definitely there, and it was quite strong for a first attempt, I have to say,” Harry happily exclaimed, letting out a peal of elated laughter before he pressed an enthusiastic kiss to Draco’s lips. “I knew you could do it.” 

Draco couldn’t help smiling along, Harry’s enthusiasm was contagious. “I didn’t, but I suppose I was wrong,” he admitted, following up Harry’s kiss with a soft press of his lips against Harry’s. “You’re obviously a great teacher.”

“And you are a magnificent student. “Want to continue? Or are you too tired to do so today?”

“Is that another challenge, Potter?” Draco asked, cheekily raising his eyebrow as he made sure Harry made eye contact. “Professor Potter?”

Harry snorted, but he still couldn’t hide the blush rising on his cheeks.

Draco smirked. “Is that a thing for you, then?” he asked, voice somewhere between teasing and curious. 

Harry cleared his throat, hand moving up to rub the back of his neck. “It uhm, at least it never was before,” he mumbled. “So, how about that patronus?”

Draco scrutinised him for a little while longer before he let himself be distracted again, repeating the patronus charm until they were both too hungry to continue.

Harry quickly put away his stuff and then kissed Draco briefly before they went inside together. Preparing dinner was a joint effort, the two men comfortable enough around each other to work in relative silence. 

“Hmm, the sauce is delicious,” Harry complimented as they were both seated at the kitchen table, scooping up another spoonful of rice to drench in it. “You did really well on your patronus, Draco, I’m honestly impressed.”

Draco wasn’t sure if he should laugh at Harry’s teacher modus still being on, or just be happy with the compliment. He chose the latter and hummed in recognition. 

“Still a bit disappointed that I haven’t managed a corporeal one though,” he admitted.

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’ll take much longer. The last few tries were definitely more stable.” 

Draco smiled as he thought back to their session. Not only had it been really fun to work with Harry in that way, it had also been satisfying to see how he was well on his way to mastering this complex magic. Harry was definitely right, at first his patronus had been nothing more than a flare of silver mist, but by the end of their practice, he could make out a form that got more stable and more defined with every try. If Harry had let him, he probably would’ve kept trying for hours on end, but he could also recognise that it was sometimes better to allow yourself some rest. 

  
  


Harry woke up smiling the next morning. They’d shared Draco’s bed again, and while nothing but thorough snogging had happened, it was still nice to wake up together. 

“Will you be alright without me?” he teased quietly as he ran a finger across Draco’s cheek, the soft skin getting caught on the light stubble.

Draco snorted. “I’ve been alright without you for 21 years, I think I can manage another day,” he smirked. 

Harry grinned at his snark, kissing the sarcasm off his lips before throwing the covers. “Still feels like a waste of time to have made arrangements to meet up with Akira though. I would’ve liked to spend Sunday in bed with you. Always felt like Sundays were meant to spend between the sheets,” he winked, losing his pants on his way to the shower with an extra wiggle of his hips, a grin tugging on his lips as he heard Draco groan while he buried his face in a pillow.

  
  


“A penguin” Draco yelled as soon as Harry entered the house that evening.

Harry frowned, and stalled for a minute while taking off his shoes. “Uhm, sorry?”

Draco sighed, pulling his hair like he had obviously done a couple of times already over the last hours. 

“My patronus. It’s a penguin?!” he explained. “Why? You’ve got this regal stag prancing around like it owns the place, and I get a penguin!?”

Harry smiled brightly, walking over to where Draco was pacing the room. “You managed a corporeal patronus?” he asked excitedly.

Draco nodded. “Yes,” allowing a tiny smile to tug on his lips. He allowed Harry to wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him closer to press a kiss to his temple. 

“That’s awesome, Draco. I knew you could do it.” He was well aware the pride was oozing from his words but he couldn’t care less. Draco deserved to know. He had a feeling it hadn’t been often that someone had been openly proud of him in his life.

Draco preened under the praise, stealing a short kiss from his lips before pulling back to continue his complaints. “A penguin, though!”

“Hey now,” Harry chided. “Penguins stand for endurance, determination, grace and confidence.” He considered Draco’s face and smiled. “Think it suits you.”

“You’re not making that up?” Draco inquired, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. 

Harry chuckled and pulled him closer again. “No. I promise. It was part of our theoretical exam for the aurors. Knowing people’s patronus form can teach you a lot about their personalities, apparently.”

“Oh, alright then.”

Harry grinned and ducked down to kiss Draco where his shirt had slipped off his shoulder, leaving a strip of pale skin bare. “Show me?” he asked.

Stepping back, Draco got a determined look on his face, taking a deep breath before concentrating on the charm. “Expecto patronum,” he calmly spoke, and in a flash, a bright silver Emperor penguin floated from the tip of his wand, waggling around the room and tilting its head in Draco’s direction as if to ask if he wanted anything specific from him. 

Harry grinned and walked around Draco to wrap his arms around him from behind, putting his chin on his shoulder. “Want me to teach you the charm for it to carry your messages?” he asked, proceeding to do so when Draco nodded minutely.

  
  


“There’s an owl trying to get your attention,” Harry smirked, turning around to drain the pasta he’d been cooking. Draco looked up from where he was stirring the sauce, frowning as he opened the window to let the bird hop inside. Harry watched him carefully as he untied the letter and fed it a few treats before sending it on its way again. He glimpsed at the handwriting, smirked and put the letter aside to continue what he was doing.

“Bad news?” Harry asked, trying to sound neutral as he put the pot back on the stove, waiting until Draco had finished the sauce.

Draco looked up and smiled. “No, it’s just Pansy. She’s probably going to chew me out for missing her Easter bash again.”

“You two still write?” Harry asked, surprised it hadn’t come up.

Draco nodded. “Yeah, she’s one of the few who would still talk to me. Well, she and Blaise. And Theo, since his father died.”

“I didn’t know.”

Draco snorted. “You mean I didn’t tell you,” he replied knowingly. “And no, I don’t often talk about it as it’s just this… letters. They don’t come over to visit me, and I’m never in England anyway.”

Harry hummed, a whole range of follow up questions lying on the tip of his tongue, but finally decided against asking them.


	13. Chapter 13

Summer was approaching fast, and while it meant the weather was getting warmer and less humid, it also meant that Harry’s time in Tokyo was slowly approaching its expiration date and he dreaded the idea. 

He was determined to make the best of those last few months though, and apparently Draco shared the sentiment. 

One night, Harry came home from a last minute trip to the supermarket and found Draco on the couch and all of his own trunks scattered around the small living room. 

“What - Why is all my luggage in your living room and not in my hotel room?” he asked, dropping his shopping bag on the floor and wincing as he heard a jar break.

Draco put on his indifferent face, but Harry could see the uncertainty in his eyes, even from a distance. “I cancelled your room and let them transfer your stuff here,” he replied. “You don’t ever sleep there anymore and it’s just a waste of money you could spend more wisely. I didn’t know you’d have so much junk with you though,” he huffed, making Harry snort.

“I had Ginny and Hermione send some of it later,” he admitted. “When it became clear that I would want to stay a while.”

Draco smiled brightly at that, pleased at the confession. He stood up, climbed over Harry’s luggage until he stood before him and cocked his head. “Well then, I suppose you can just stay  _ here _ a while.”

  
  


****

The first thing Harry noticed as he came inside from his training session in the blazing mid-July sunshine, were Draco’s shoes placed neatly under the coat rack, his outer robes hung up on its usual hook in the corner of the hallway. The sun was setting and the warmth of the summer day was slowly dissipating. He was home then, he smiled to himself, excited to share the news he’d been sitting on since receiving the owl this morning. The sound of running water taught him that Draco hadn’t been home for long, probably about ten minutes, or he would’ve seen him while putting his training dummy away, which meant he would be done with his after work shower about… now. He grinned, pleased that only in a few months of living together, he’d gotten to know Draco and his small yet fixed routines so well, and made his way to the bathroom down the hall. 

Draco smiled at him through the fogged up mirror, his hair disheveled as he ran a towel over it to dry. Harry walked the two steps from the door to where Draco was standing and wrapped his arms around his warm and still damp torso. Humming, he pressed a kiss to the junction between neck and shoulder, enjoying the small amount of time before his boyfriend would tell him off for dirtying him so shortly after his shower. 

“Minerva wants to see you next weekend,” he mumbled, pressing a few more kisses before realising the raised tension in Draco’s shoulders. Harry looked up to find him frowning at him in the mirror. 

“McGonagall, Minerva McGonagall,” he clarified, thinking Draco was confused. “Should we take an early morning portkey the day before or an evening one on the day itself? We could probably stay with Ron and Hermione, or I could ask for Kreacher to return to Grimmauld’s” he blabbered on, while Draco slowly turned around, grabbing his bright green (once a slytherin, always a slytherin, Harry often teased) pants and pulling them on before fully facing Harry. 

“And…” he asked hesitantly, the frown still firm on his face, “why would she want to see me?”

“I asked her to.” Harry replied brightly. “Isabella’s asked for less teaching hours, with her research in Italy finally kicking off, so Hogwarts is hiring someone new for the advanced potion classes, maybe fit in some apprenticeships as well.” He smiled widely as he unraveled his grand plan, hardly noticing how Draco wasn’t half as enthusiastic as he was.

“And you thought I would want that job.” It wasn’t a question. Draco’s icy voice made a shiver run down Harry’s spine.

“Well, yes, I mean… It’s perfect, isn’t it? I’ve got to go back in September and if you could teach there too…” he trailed off. “I know you love teaching, you’re always full of stories and energy when you’ve had an apprentice with you for the day.” Harry tried, a bit more hesitant as he struggled to find some happiness in Draco’s steel grey eyes.

Draco huffed. “I… I can’t believe this. I can’t believe  _ you _ Harry.” He shook his head and proceeded dressing himself, walking into their bedroom to grab a fresh pair of trousers and a soft thin woolen jumper, the charcoal cashmere contrasting with his eyes in a way that usually made Harry want to devour him. Today, it only served to confuse him further. Draco never got dressed in formal wear after his shower, unless he had plans, but Harry was certain he hadn’t. It was also very clear by then that devouring Draco wouldn’t be on the agenda tonight.

“When are you going to realise that  _ your _ dreams for  _ your  _ future aren’t everyone's dreams for their future?” Draco asked as he turned around to face Harry. “You want to teach at Hogwarts, you thrive there, and that’s fine. Great even. But that doesn’t mean  _ I _ want the same thing.” He deflated from angry to resigned over the course of those few sentences.

“I just… I thought it would be a great opportunity to come back to Britain,” Harry mumbled, wringing his hands together.

“Harry!” Draco yelled. “Who even says I  _ want  _ to come back to Britain? I’ve lived in Japan for four years now, has it ever occurred to you that I like it here? That my  _ life _ is here now? For Merlin’s sake.” He pushed past Harry who was standing helplessly in the doorway, out of the bedroom, pulled his shoes on and took his coat from the rack again, only to change his mind and leave it since he was already wearing a jumper.

“Draco what- where are you going?” Harry asked, coming after him and watching while he got ready to go out. 

“I have no idea, but I need some space and time, Harry. Good night.” 

And with that, he strode out the door with purposeful passes, leaving Harry confused and a bit lost as he pulled the door closed behind him. 

  
  


At 2am, Harry found himself sitting at their kitchen table, still by himself. Over the last couple of hours, he had paced back and forth through their house, pulling his hair out over how stupid he had been about it. When his feet had worn out a track into the wooden flooring, he’d sat down and continued to pull his hair. He’d cried, then stopped crying only to start again a bit later. 

It felt like the walls came tumbling down around him as he realised that he had absolutely no idea how Draco saw his future. He had simply assumed that Tokyo was a temporary thing for Draco, much as it was for Harry, that he wanted to go back to Britain eventually. 

He wasn’t sure what they were or what they could be if that wasn’t the fact. He wasn’t sure who he himself was and would be without Draco around. 

He felt so much better, so much more like  _ himself _ with Draco. Would there even be a future for them if they were on complete opposite sides of the world, in different timezones? 

Finally he cast a tempus, and sighed as he saw how late -or early- it was. Draco had work in the morning and he would hate having to get up after too little sleep, not to mention that Harry hadn’t the slightest idea of where he was, if he was safe. He hoped Draco hadn’t ended up drunk in some dingy bar, because a tired  _ and  _ hungover Draco would be total hell to deal with in the morning.

If he even came back.

Finally, he decided to cast a patronus and send it to Draco, bearing the message that he was sorry and wanted to talk it out, eventually, but mostly wanting to make sure that he was alright. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm oddly emotional posting this.   
> This was basically the first scene I thought of as I got the idea for this fic, from a song that was on an album I played on repeat at the time. 
> 
> Part of it is in Dutch so most of you wouldn't get all of it, but in case you'd want to listen to it...  
> Here it is https://youtu.be/o0XRre4Op-c


End file.
